Filthie's Mobile Fortress Of Solitude

Filthie's Mobile Fortress Of Solitude
Where Great Intelligence Goes To Be Insulted

Wednesday, 28 November 2018

The Sorceress's Apprentice

The internet's foremost warrior poet, TB - hits another one right out of the park.

Awhile back I looked in on an estranged daughter with forlorn hopes that she'd grown up, or matured, or straightened out. And of course it was a Bad Idea; if anything she's WORSE. All I did was open up old wounds for a bit. At the range on Sunday, Flapz shot even worse than I did. So I tell him to spill it. His daughter had just gone mustang the way mine did. She's not queer, of course - so there's that - but out of the blue, he gets an hysterical text from the kid - "I hate you daddy, everything wrong with my life is all your fault, I never want to see you or your %^&*@ wife again....!!!" He is getting the same kick in the balls I got half a decade ago. The exact same way too - these kids will never say this crap to your face. Of course not - that would mean having to talk, and talking is a two way street. With the power of TB's crystal ball, you can fire all your shots, do all the emotional damage you can - before the target even has a chance to ask why you're killing him. He was almost in a daze. "JFC, Filthie… I paid her tuition at school. I paid her first few month's rent … and like a bolt of lightning out of the blue she does this...". I just shook my head. Here we go again. I had no idea what to tell him other than what others have told me: "suck it up, there's nothing you can do about it, you're on a new path now - enjoy the ride."

If Minnie Mouse had done it, she'd have killed the Warlock or enslaved 
him - and set the broomsticks to building nukes.
Some apprentices are more talented than their teachers - which makes them even more

I wish I still had the links. But the story goes like this: 

In a dusty isolated village, somewhere in the godforsaken deserts of Shitholistan, an Indian professor comes rattling down the street with a team of undergrads and a truck and trailer full of electronics and telecommunication equipment. The young students unpack a computer, and set to work setting up a satellite  uplink to the internet. The kids and some of the illiterate adults gather round to see what these exotic people from The Big City are up to.

The computer was set up, the undergrads put out a patio umbrella for themselves and the prof - and they fire up the computer. The prof takes a seat in front of it... and starts playing Pac Man. He does that just long enough so all the local kids can see it. Then he brings up Tetris, Mine Sweeper and all the other games. In each case, he isn't playing the games so much as he's watching the poverty stricken, illiterate children. After a couple minutes, he shuts her down, walks over to the shade and sits down and picks up a pen and paper. The kids are almost vibrating with excitement.

"Can we play games on your computer too?" they beg.
'Yes' says the prof.

"Well...!!! Show us how!!! We want to play!!!"

The kids are frantic. "But...but...but...!!!! We can't even read! How can we learn to run the computer when we can't even read?" they wailed. The old prof just shrugged and smirked. Eventually he relents, and he goes back to the computer and brings up a Pakistani version of Sesame Street and some other children's shows - and that's it. A year later, all of the kids could read. They were not only playing games, they were talking with kids half way across the country and watching more advanced educational programming like NOVA. Their parents marvelled at their children's accomplishments.

One day the kids woke up and headed out to the town computer... and were horrified. The computer keys were all wrong. They couldn't read the foreign text on the screen. "Professor!!! What have you done?!?!? Something is wrong with the computer!!!"

So he explains. 'There's nothing wrong with the computer, little ones' he says, 'It just works on the English language...' 

"Well - change it back!".
'No,' he smirks.
"Teach us English - please!!!!"
'No,' he says.

A year later, in a dirty backwater village in a poverty stricken third world nation - the kids all learned English and a few were dabbling in other languages so they could talk to their new friends in Europe and on other continents.

An interesting side note may be in order: maybe stuff like this is another reason you are being displaced in your own lands, Whitey?


Back here at home, Marxist unionized public school teachers can't teach your kids math so they dumb down the tests so they can pass - it's about preserving the child's self esteem dontchya know. Or they come up with lunacy like common core math. At home their parents bitch because some big fat dyke at Twitter just banned their account. Or they got a warning from the nannies at Facebook for posting something they didn't like.

And so it goes. The broomsticks go merrily on, flashing the firmware, configuring the software, positioning the initiators, and installing the plutonium warheads on the weapons that will be used to destroy their makers.

Now would be a really good time for the Wizard to show up, put an end to it, and set things right.


  1. It’s alll true, Joe. That story about the prof in India was true, I read it in some on line back issue of SA IIRC...