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America, Apparently, and Dumb: Posted by u/AbolishYouTube fr/jordanpeterson user O10 hours ago 3.1k 'Tankies' (socialists who think the USSR did nothing wrong) have come out of the woodwork on the socialist subreddit /r/BreadTube again. Here are some standout big brain takes Authoritarian erasure and literal whataboutism: "I have family members from the Eastern Bloc, who only have nice memories, and for most people, maybe their lives were very pleasant. And maybe there were some human rights violations, but the Western media [never covers US atrocities]" "beating the nazis, industrializing a desolate feudalist country in a couple decades, and providing food, education, healthcare, and shelter to hundreds of millions of people makes stalinist communism good" "Those sound like a reasons to like him even more." (In reply to a comment pointing out the scholar being discussed defended North Korea and Iran) Deleted comments: "Shh [OP] only know it by the propaganda name "Holodomor", with wildly inflated numbers, ignoring 2/3 of the affected area and relatevizing the Holocaust in the process." "yes retard thats exactly what we should do. If "we" by that I mean western retarded whites, do not do that, in 10 years any forms of individual economic development Iran could do would be gone and their people would be working in sweatshops while their oil revenue would simply be controlled by the west by installing regime which has cut a deal with the west for its own protection. Anti-imperialism means supporting those states which are against the Triad based imperialism led by America. But then again for whites in the west, cheap labour from Iranians and their oil revenue recycled through the treasury brings material prosperity." "300? Guess you should go tell that to over 50% of the Russian population and over 50% of the previously east German citizens. I'm sure there are more than 300 of them. They know what good liberal western democracy is like and what evil tankie dictatorships are like. They chose the evil tankie dictatorships, because it genuinely improved their lives and is far better than what came before and after it. You should talk to the people that actually lived under these regimes." (In reply to a comment suggesting the post was getting bumped by 300 brigading tankies) A final doozy: "Except none of that happened retard you are a buffoon. You dumb cunt. And 1009% sure a retarded white. > The British industrialised India and improved their standard of living, therefore any tyranny dealt to the Indian people was totally forgivable and the British Raj was good No. Britain de-industrialised India, in 1750 India had 25% of the world industrial output it went from that to 29% in 1950. Britain not only deindustrialised India but made it the case that the artisan and small proto-factory workers moved to the land to do agriculture, which raised land rent.And in agriculture they forced people to move into export crops than food crops, on top of that they created restrictions on grain movement. Thats why their was a famine every 16 years for a 200 year period. You are a dummy and a cunt. Their is a NIGHT AND DAY difference of people of a colonising culture coming to your country and destroying it. V/S Communist revolutionaries suppressing counter revolutionaries (possibly unwarranted) or ending up with a famine while pushing for industrialisation. This garbage post. Also apparently saying anything remotely positive about past socialist societies (including people who actually lived in them) is "authoritarian erasure" and makes you a "tankie".
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Ass, Beautiful, and College: 7 months ago (edited) Okay, l'll probably get some hate comments for this... I am a guy, not hard to look at, know how to "flirt", and use it to my advantage when necessary. Things I've done. Gotten a tour of the control tower at a major airport. Purchased a bag of "Big Mac's" and gave it to the flight attendant to share with her co-workers as I was boarding the plane. I got upgraded to first class and got a free bottle of champagne to go. Gotten out of speeding tickets when stopped by a female cop. Gotten the girls behind the counter at Starbucks to share some of their "secrets" so I could make my own coffee at home for a lot less money. Had department heads at college open some doors and grease some wheels for me. Just walking down a hallway with some of my guy friends in a very nice hotel and passing by a banquet party that was being thrown for airline reservation agents, mostly women. Two women saw us walk by and ran out into the hallway and physically grabbed us and pulled us into their party and insisted we join them. We did and I got laid that night. I was just doing some shopping in the local Whole Foods store and this lady I had never seen before engages me in conversation and gives me her phone number and wants me to call her and telling me she could help financially in whatever I might be interested in doing. I never called her. It just seemed to freaky.... even for me. Traveling with two girls while in Paris. We where staying at hotel but the front desk staff wasn't being very helpful to us. After a few days of this the girls asked me to talk to the girl at the front desk. I spoke what little french I knew and used my "help me face", she smiled and opened up speaking English and being very helpful. The girls I was with, later just smiled and shook their heads.. This girl I worked with when I was with the air- lines asked me to go to New Orleans with her. She had family there and I was only supposed to go for the day and then fly back home. She was going to stay at her parents home in her old bedroom. Her younger sister still lived there and she definitely did not.. like... me. I dont think it was me so much as she was jealous of her older sister who was way hotter than her and she probably watched her sister always get all the breaks in life. I was just another gold nugget that had fallen out of her sister's ass. We spent the day at the French Quarter and be- fore it was all over her mother told me it would be okay if I stayed the night on the couch if I wanted to stay the night instead of flying back home. When the time came the girl offered me her bedroom and said she would stay on the couch instead of me. I couldn't believe this was happening to me, every guy at the airport had the hots for this beautiful blond haired, blued eyed girl and here "I" was sleeping in her bed with her underwear hanging all over the place. She had just taken a shower and left the room. There are many more stories I can tell. So what I am saying is.. if you have the personality and the God given tools you were given at birth to work with.. the world is your oyster. What a ladies man
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Ass, Beautiful, and College: 7 months ago (edited) Okay, l'll probably get some hate comments for this... I am a guy, not hard to look at, know how to "flirt", and use it to my advantage when necessary. Things I've done. Gotten a tour of the control tower at a major airport. Purchased a bag of "Big Mac's" and gave it to the flight attendant to share with her co-workers as I was boarding the plane. I got upgraded to first class and got a free bottle of champagne to go. Gotten out of speeding tickets when stopped by a female cop. Gotten the girls behind the counter at Starbucks to share some of their "secrets" so I could make my own coffee at home for a lot less money. Had department heads at college open some doors and grease some wheels for me. Just walking down a hallway with some of my guy friends in a very nice hotel and passing by a banquet party that was being thrown for airline reservation agents, mostly women. Two women saw us walk by and ran out into the hallway and physically grabbed us and pulled us into their party and insisted we join them. We did and I got laid that night. I was just doing some shopping in the local Whole Foods store and this lady I had never seen before engages me in conversation and gives me her phone number and wants me to call her and telling me she could help financially in whatever I might be interested in doing. I never called her. It just seemed to freaky.... even for me. Traveling with two girls while in Paris. We where staying at hotel but the front desk staff wasn't being very helpful to us. After a few days of this the girls asked me to talk to the girl at the front desk. I spoke what little french I knew and used my "help me face", she smiled and opened up speaking English and being very helpful. The girls I was with, later just smiled and shook their heads.. This girl I worked with when I was with the air- lines asked me to go to New Orleans with her. She had family there and I was only supposed to go for the day and then fly back home. She was going to stay at her parents home in her old bedroom. Her younger sister still lived there and she definitely did not.. like... me. I dont think it was me so much as she was jealous of her older sister who was way hotter than her and she probably watched her sister always get all the breaks in life. I was just another gold nugget that had fallen out of her sister's ass. We spent the day at the French Quarter and be- fore it was all over her mother told me it would be okay if I stayed the night on the couch if I wanted to stay the night instead of flying back home. When the time came the girl offered me her bedroom and said she would stay on the couch instead of me. I couldn't believe this was happening to me, every guy at the airport had the hots for this beautiful blond haired, blued eyed girl and here "I" was sleeping in her bed with her underwear hanging all over the place. She had just taken a shower and left the room. There are many more stories I can tell. So what I am saying is.. if you have the personality and the God given tools you were given at birth to work with.. the world is your oyster. I wish I could be as popular as this guy!!1!!11!
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Beef, Bitch, and Bruh: Wegmans Deficatessen Thad Stupid Fucking Bitch Who Made Me Lad Walking Around The Store Thow Out An Entire Pound Of Cheese Screaming The N-Word Because It Wasn't "Stacked Nicely" Chad Demanding To See The Manager Virgin Normal Customer Clearly wants attention, Wizard Talking To The Employees GER everyone just awkwardly ignores him Considers food literally Best friends with Has been coming to the store for years, employees still don't recognize him inedible if it doesn't look the manager since they talk ever day Employees desperately try to provide best service possible, still not good enough for Chad like a work of art Only dealt with her once, hate fueled memory will be burned into my brain for all eternity Bothers employees just trying to do their jobs So, uh, wh-what's your Afraid of flavor, orders Chips favorite kind of meat? stuff like fat free ham Bruh it's a Wegmans, and plain turkey Wants her cheese cut there aren't even any MEATI Gets skipped in line so thin it's transparent black people here Imao Gets cool fancy stuff like because he can't hear his prosciutto and Kobe beef number being called over his shitty music Got banned Life is so awesome that Knows the Health Code Holds up the line trying Lmao I don't get paid enough to listen to your shitty jokes Wizard from the store her biggest problem is poorly stacked cheese better than the inspectors to talk to the workers Inspires rage in even the most apathetic Employees have memorized his Gets the meat that's Doesn't even buy been sitting in the case for half the day retail workers incredibly comlicated order, still insists on anything, came in just Insists on having his meat fresh sliced even if the case to scream the n-word repeating it every time was refilled two minutes ago Doesn't have any friends, has to go to Wegmans for any social interaction Virgin vs Chad Wegmans Deli Customers
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Alive, Children, and Comfortable: trilliontreesinitiative THE TRILLION TREES INITIATIVE It was really all my fault. Stars in my eyes, I haphazardly met strangers from the internet in more-or-less public places and pled my case, just to be brushed off over and over again. Months of pounding the keyboard, and trying to find people to help me, I gave up and decided if it needed doing, I could at least give it a game try. I posted my plea to every corner of the internet, every newsgroup I could find, every fledgling website. This was back before there were pictures on the internet. I was a true believer then and was sure that if I found the right people, somehow we'd find a way to plant a trillion trees on our planet. Spare change went to seedlings that I nurtured through frigid winters and increasingly hot summers. I surreptitiously planted them a spade in one pocket and a sapling or ten in another, all wrapped in a damp rag ready for a moment no one seemed to be watching-- could add a sapling to a border of trees along the waters' edge, or in a little clearing of national forest Time passed, kids came, and overwhelmed by the responsibilities I'd willingly accepted without any real sense of the gravity of my commitment to the humans l'd made, I let my zealous mission drift off like my trapeze artist dreams from thirty years earlier. My kids were smarter than me, and kept me busy ferrying them back and forth with their extracurricular activities. I felt like an unpaid lab assistant for their science fair projects, but I knew that sacrifice was part of parenthood and I tucked my passions behind a mask of nurturing officiousness. I truly forgot about the pleas l'd broadcast so carelessly. The internet was a wild place in the late twentieth century, and twenty years after my last screams into the abyss came the most unexpected answer, delivered simultaneously to my old and new email account and sent as a text WE CAN HELP WITH THE TREES. It looked like it came from my own email address, my own cell number, and it was only addressed to me. I almost swiped away the messages, but.. but what was I rejecting? My old mission? I still knew we needed trees to help counter our own environmental carelessness. What if my shouts into the void reached someone who could actually help? I wrote and discarded responses, one after another. Finally, I replied with "I'm open to suggestions," and watched as my own words buzzed my telephone and felt foolish and a little more cynical as nothing happened. What was I expecting? Hackers to show up with bushels of acorns? It wasn't hackers, it was a strangely bland man who rang my doorbell the next morning right after l'd hugged my kids and seen the bus shuttle them to school. Since was still wearing pants, I answered the door. "Sorry, we're renters" has been my greeting to anyone at my door for the last decade. It's not actually true, even -- we bought our rented house before the kids were born, but it usually cuts off any sales pitch and lets any visitor trundle off to a more likely mark. I wasn't even really thinking about the weird message of the night before--my chore list was mighty and overwhelming and if I wanted to live in a clean house, I needed to make it happen--but the bland man took a breath before I closed the door in his face "THE TREES" I don't know how it sounded like thousands of voices, all at once, at a conversationally comfortable volume, but I got a sense of foreignness, of something far beyond my understanding, happening right at my front door. My chores didn't seem to be much of a priority anymore. I felt no danger from the stranger, just overwhelming urgency to do as he wished. My desire to invite the stranger to sit at my dining room table and listen was my only priority. I led the way to the table and offfered some coffee to my guest "NO, THANK YOU" the myriad voices replied, sitting across the table from my spot. He just looked like a guy in his late twenties or early thirties. He could be my pizza delivery dude, or the guy who managed the movie theater, or a shoe salessman. Sandy brown hair was cut and combed neatly. He seemed to be in reasonable shape, with rested placid eyes and a neutral expression on his slightly ruddy face. He seemed both comfortably solid and like he was vibrating almost too fast for me to tell. "HERE'S OUR OFFER" echoed (maybe only in my head? Maybe I'm actually going crazy. This is the weirdest interaction l've ever had with a sapient creature. I'm pretty sure that guy was not a pizza deliverer or salesman, he was something, maybe many things, different.) The paper felt high-quality thick and smooth, but the letters were iridescent, black at first glance, but racing oil-slick colors at any angle. My eyes couldn't focus on it at first. Did this guy drug me? Why did I let him in my house? He was probably a serial killer. Or a mass murderer? All those voices all at once? This was insane. "PLEASE READ IT" I obediently looked down at the words "WE, THE UNDERSIGNED, WISH TO SAVE YOUR PLANET WITH YOU" I looked up at the bland man and tried to explain my insignificance "I like where you're going with this, but I'm just one person. I'm not in charge of anything really, including my own children. I can't even keep my houseplants alive." I pointed at browning foliage in my house, a spider plant that was purportedly unkillable until my indefatigable inability to keep track of my own commitments caught up and dried out. "WE KNOW WHO YOU ARE AND WHO YOU CAN BE. KEEP READING" The words seemed to swim and reform as I looked down again. "WE WILL BUY VAST TRACTS OF LAND AROUND YOUR PLANET. WE WILL PLANT YOUR TRILLION TREES. YOU JUST MUST AGREE I felt completely inadequate. I was in no way qualified to agree to this. I'm a suburban mom, not a diplomat or foreign dignitary. I recycle and try to avoid single-use plastics, but I'm not even sure that I'm doing that right. What if I was agreeing to an alien invasion? My authority is limited to two small humans who were at least half jerk, and that's not counting their father's influence More words scrambled across the page. "WE WISH NO HARM TO YOU, WE JUST WISH TO MAKE YOUR PLANET MORE HABITABLE BOTH FOR US AND YOU." Ah, there's the catch. Who the hell are they? Do I want to cohabitate with another species? What if they're like kudzu -- invasive and impossible to remove? The page seemed to shimmer as the letters reformed: "WE WILL ONLY GROW TREES THAT CAN THRIVE WITHOUT DAMAGING OTHER SPECIES. "But why me?" "YOU ARE THE DREAMER" "Even if I didn't want you to do this, there's no way I could stop you, so...sure! Go for it. A pen rolled across my table and stopped, pointing at a big black X at the bottom of the page "SIGN AT THE X I looked over the page again. No legalese had suddenly appeared. The words were the same The pen felt heavy and I knew I was doing something irrevocable but I couldn't seem to stop. I used my best handwriting and signed my name, which of course you all know by now. The bland man inclined his head and took the paper at once, tucking it into an inside pocket of his tan corduroy jacket "THAT SHOULD DO IT" his voice buzzed more as he stood, and moved to the door I felt bemused and a little like l'd signed something expensive away without fully understanding the value as I locked the door behind the stranger. Maybe I was seeing things. Maybe none of it happened The first sign that I hadn't suffered a psychotic break - to be honest, I was a little surprised it wasn't, l'd always felt precariously balanced on the edge of sanity and figured this was the final separation of my tenuous grasp on reality the first sign was a few days later, when I finished matching another dozen socks, rolling them together, and throwing them in my older child's underwear drawer. Her room was a pigsty, but we'd come to an agreement that her worktable was her problem and that no food was consumed in her room, so it was relatively hygienic. I looked out the window and saw that the empty lot next to my house no longer had a sign advertising a local Realtor and something was happening I slid my feet into flip-flops and walked to my mailbox and saw the bland man riding a giant lawnmower, cutting the native brush to nearly barren dirt. I flipped through three credit card offers I planned to dump straight into the recycling and leafed through the grocery circular and noted that pork chops were a few dollars cheaper per pound, so McRibs would be coming back soon The silliest things played through my head as watched him clear the land, as a flock of quail ( have Opinions About Quail, mostly that they're only saved from extinction by reproducing so much, because they seem to have a death wish near motorized vehicles) ran on foot just ahead of the mower waved at the man, since we were acquainted. Sort of, I didn't know his name, and I'd never even thought to ask. Why didn't I ask? l'd signed a contract that I didn't truly understand and didn't even know his name. I patiently waited for him to mow back toward my property line, the forgotten junk mail between my arm and chest. He shimmered a little as he hopped off the mower and moved towards me. "WE MUST PREPARE THE LAND. I nodded, like I knew his plan all along and was magnanimously supervising him, I offered him a bottle of water, or the use of my toilet, if he needed it. "WE HAVE WHAT WE NEED" Why was he speaking in the plural? It hadn't seemed odd until just then. My sense of incongruity and that something was Just Not Right began to ramp up. I waved at them and walked back to my bungalow. I popped online to see what was happening in the world and saw the bigger picture, easily seen by less self-absorbed human beings. Every single vacant lot in the world was being mowed flat by a bland looking man, who was identical in feature to every other bland-looking man mowing a vacant lot. Too weird. Reporters tried to talk to the men, but they placidly mowed each lot, one after another. Where did all of the mowers come from? There were no brand markers on the machines. As soon as the lots were cleared, furrows were plowed The bland men moved implacably, good neighbors every one, and stopped the racket of agricultural busywork well before dinnertime. They started the next day after sunrise. The story got bigger as the days passed. It was on the front page of newspapers, and everyone seemed to have a hot take on what was really going on. Aliens? Nah, they looked too normal. Clones? How could millions of clones make it to adulthood without someone catching on? As far as I could tell, I was the only one who'd successfully spoken to any of these....people, if that's what they were. I thought I might be able to tell someone about my weird experience, but I was also positive that no one would believe me. I told my husband the strange tale and he laughed at my creativity and rubbed my back as I drifted off to sleep. The next morning, I drove the kids to school and went to the public library. I used it frequently for escapist fiction, mostly about young women in the early 19th century trying to snag a spouse. I went straight to the reference desk. Do you know what's going on with these guys mowing and plowing everywhere?" The librarian grimaced, "You're number six to ask today. We have no idea," I returned a stack of Regencies into the slot next to the desk, and walked back to my car without grabbing any new trashy fiction. I drove home pensively, worried that I had fucked up something big. Safe in my garage, I felt my anxiety rise, and tried to breathe slowly and smoothly and reason my way through this mystery. I agreed to let someone plant the trees that I knew we needed We clearly weren't taking care of our planet and someone else was stepping in for us. Did it really matter that I didn't understand their reasoning or motivations? l'd been begging the world for so long, and someone finally listened. Panic attack averted, I stepped into my kitchen and rinsed the breakfast dishes before loading the dishwasher. looked out of my kitchen window and saw a wall of trees in the formerly vacant lot. Not seedlings, fully grown and mature trees.T flipped on the news, and it was the same everywhere. The trees were in. The space station reported that there were just new trees everywhere, they hadn't been uprooted from forests, they just suddenly existed. Every tree fit perfectly in its microclimate, and fruit and nut trees were included in each single-lot forest freely available for hungry mouths I ran outside and looked for the man. He was standing with his hands on his lower baçk looking up. Fruit trees were in full bloom. Conifers looked like they'd been growingg there since time began. I stood next to the man.I didn't even know what words I could use to express my gratitude, my discomfort, my fear "WE ARE DONE, MS. APPLESEED" he buzzed, and suddenly became a cloud of bees. The cloud, the machinery, the man all dispersed. The signed paper fell to the newly turned earth. The trees stayed where they were. A lot of people had been watching the planters. A lot of people saw the planters become clouds of bees. A lot of people grabbed one of the billion copies of my signed contract, and everyone saw my name, clear as day. "Terra Appleseed, Mother of Trees", the headlines called me My number was unlisted, but my phone didn't stop ringing for weeks. I didn't have any of the answers that the reporters wanted. I was just a dreamer, I told them. I don't know why the bees listened to me. The scientists had the most to say, of course. Carbon dioxide was down, oxygen was up Glaciers stopped melting, and while I was trying to sound like a functional adult, refusing any interview requests, my older daughter figured out how to make cold fusion work. She'd built a variation of a Farnsworth Fusor that fused two atoms of hydrogen into one of helium at room temperature, and suddenly eliminated the need for fossil fuel combustion With a ready-built platform, we freely gave away her discovery to anyone who'd listen. At first, people thought I'd somehow organized the tree thing to sell my daughter's invention but I knew we'd get by fine without charging a dime. The truth was more mysterious and unexplainable, but we, as a species, weren't going to get ourselves in such a fix again -- we didn't need to. We just needed the bees to start us off, and my daughter to finish our addiction to combustion People started planting their own trees, too, but nothing made them grow forty feet in a day. The bees kept that secret. I was much too boring to stay in the spotlight for long, and I returned to my diet of trashy novels and quiet longing for that feeling of secret importance that had filled the days of planting, the wonder at this enormous leap towards peace and understanding that seemed to fall into my lap It was enough. My obituary decades later would focus on the mystery of the trees, the dream I tried to spread, and the unexpected way it came true The trillion trees initiative worked. We reached for the stars, comfortable that our home planet was safe. We found life everywhere we looked. As far as I know, no one ever spoke to the bees again. Super long, sorry - A modern day fairy tale about trees.
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Life, World, and Mar: Molten Hamiae Life. 4007400 Mar Felix, on one side of your world you will see this. Don't talk to the NPC standing there, just go into the hole and get the loot.

Felix, on one side of your world you will see this. Don't talk to the NPC standing there, just go into the hole and get the loot.

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Advice, Bad, and Baseball: When your patrol block team learns you have powers: has turned into a difficult situation. When your therapy group wants to start hero work: This. has turned into a difficult situation. When your king refuses to come back home to save your family: This.. has turned into a difficult situation. When your clustermate hires a fan favorite character to find out where you live: This.. has turned into a difficult situation. When you learn what the fuck is going on but are a ghosf and can only talk to the screaming lady This. has turned into a difficult situation. When your favorite therapíst suddenly stops texting you after the massive terrorist attack has turned into a difficult situation. When learn that you Kenzie was holding her parents hostage the ENTIRE TIME This.. has turned into a difficult situation. When you have no powers and are only now learning the truth about Scion and Gold morning has turned into a difficult situation. When you aren't even an official member of breakthrough but you're the only one unaffected by goddess This.. has turned into a difficult situation. When your cool friend was actually a lab rat clone all along: This.. has turned into a difficult situation. When the fan favorite character gets betrayed and beheaded by your clustermate: This.. has turned into a difficult situation. When March shows up and does March things has turned into a difficult situation. When you discover a diary on your computer full óf entries you didn't write This.. has turned into a difficult situation. When you GO TO (Also AAAAAAAAAAA) JAIL has turned into a difficult situation. When you realize Amy is an Olympic gold medalist in mental gymnastics This. has turned into a difficult situation. When Victoria ignores your advice and breaks a crystal because it belonged to the bad guy This.. has turned into a difficult situation. When a guy in a gas mask with a baseball bat causes Gold Morning 2: Internet Вoogalбo This.. has turned into a difficult situation. I could have made MORE
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