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Why is Sweden incapable of making good literature? Denmark, Norway, Iceland and even fucking Finland have all created great literature, so why can't Sweden do it?


Because that would require them to take an african phallus out of their mouths for a few minutes and that's illegal there.


seriously though, the dragon with a girl tattoo series is insanely overrated. The first book was alright but like the second was very dry and long winded. The overbearing feminism and feminist revenge porn/power fantasy scenes are vomit inducing, lilly or whoever is an absolute mary sue, and the approach to hacking and computers is pathetically laughable to anyone with even a basic understanding of tech. In the second book she gets shot in the head and buried alive for a whole night but has the energy to dig her way out the next morning to dig her way out, navigate through the woods and axe murder her daddy issues. Tripe.


for the record I never bothered with the third because the second was too awful


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Eat my ass.


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>*blocks your path*

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It was with a peculiar sense of unease that I set out on my visit to the Hasbrouck residency at the behest of a worried mother. Her frantic calls to my medical practice had filled me with concern and a sense of unexplainable dread; it was her vague comments regarding her son's deteriorating mental and physical health which made me ill at ease, not because of anything definite, but the added sum of her vague suspicions, and what she hinted at, what she left unsaid. The pleading tone of her voice had at last convinced me to go on a home visit and examine her son. It was a chilly late autumn afternoon in late October, and the darkened, low-hanging clouds held the promise of rain. As I approached my destination the surroundings filled me with an overwhelming sensation of profound gloom and decay; the atmosphere was curiously dense and oppressive, highly concentrated, almost palpable. The house was located right next to a parking lot and the highway, but despite of this I was struck by a sense of isolation and extreme remoteness, like this property existed outside of the busy and chaotic world surrounding it.

The surrounding garden was in a most sorrowful state; left to waste away untended thorough years of neglect. There stood oddly twisted and gnarled trees whose roots drew nutrition from the diseased, watersoaked earth; in their shade grew pale, worm-eaten fleshy fungi among the rotting leaves in great numbers. A utility trailer of severe dilapidation and surrounded by weeds caught my eye as I made my way towards the entrance. The house itself was a ramshackle building of advanced dilapidation, giving off a strong aura of abandonment and neglect, and I couldn't help but wonder how people could have allowed things to slip so far into decay and abandonment. The paint was peeling and much cracked; dry-rot and fungi seemed to have infested the building long ago. As far as could be ascertained the curtains in every window were drawn shut, and I was struck by the thought that the house was slumbering.

I knocked on the door, and it appeared my arrival had been expected, for the door was opened quickly. "Mrs. Hasbrouck?" I greeted, looking at the woman who stood in the doorway. She nodded her head and quickly ushered me inside the darkened interior. She was not old, but her appearance was somewhat haggard and she appeared weary and tired. She might once have been a woman of some beauty, and it was sad to see how the worn and neglected outside of the hoPost too long. Click here to view the full text.


As I held onto the wall for support, another smell made itself known; the malodorous odour of unwashed genitalia and sour sweat was of the most offensive kind - the rank stench permeated the dimly lit basement room, and felt my eyes begin to water as I fought the urge to gag. "Zach?" I called out as I had reached the bottom of the stairs, and looked out at this subterranean dwelling my patient had occupied for so long in solitude. There was a strange kind of grunt in response, in a harsh-sounding tone, though without any intelligible words. I introduced myself as my eyes searched for its source. He sat on a swivel chair in front of a desk littered with all kinds of knick-knack and trash. His head was turned towards me in an unnatural angle, and I was at once struck by the impression that his neck was abnormally malformed and twisted. "Where's the light switch?" I wondered aloud, searching the surroundings in the awful gloomy dimness with my fingers. "No! No light! And close the door!" came a sudden, sharp exclamation from my patient. "But it's so dark in here!" I protested, though obeying his wishes. "Yes, deliciously dark," he said in a voice that made me shudder; it was somehow gibbering and gelatinous, and it filled me with a strong sense of uneasiness and loathing unlike any I had ever felt before. "I can hear the mould growing in the dark, and the rising damp climbing up the bed-legs," Zach continued with a sigh of cocksment, before turning his attention back towards the computer screen.

Though I knew his exact age from his worried mother, I could not have guessed it based on his appearance alone. He had a ghoulishly sallow complexion, and his shifty squinting slant-eyes betrayed his Asiatic ancestry. He gave off the impression of being somehow malformed, though I wasn't able to point to anything definite, though he was noticeably bow-legged, and hunchbacked. The only sound was that of his fingers eagerly tapping away at the crusted keyboard. With some difficulty I was able to find a way over to him over the floor so littered with trash, and up close, in the glow of the computer screen his sallow complexion took on a truly sickly tone, like pallid and mottled, and the gleam in those shifty eyes caused me to shudder. He didn't dignify my presence as he kept typing furiously on the keyboard - all Caps Lock it seemed. "You mother called me, told me to check in on you," I began feeling my mouth go dry as I spoke in this acrid atmosphere. He turned Post too long. Click here to view the full text.


That realisation made me break from the horrible grip of fear, and launched me into action at last. I grasped the bat, and before the shambling shape in the darkness before me could react I struck it with full force. Time after time I swung the bat, and my horror only intensified at the hollow sound as the bat struck the body, till at last it burst open like a bladder from the force of the blows. It was as if his body was as hollow, soggy and worm-eaten as the half-decayed fungi in the garden outside, for there was a softness to the rotten hollow body as if the bone had become mushy, and even after the head had caved in the body continued to tremble and writhe about on the floor. Still, I knew that it would be an unforgivable sin not to continue until all was over.

When the rage and shock which had alone saved me began to subside I dropped the bat with a clatter to the floor and staggered backwards towards the stairs. I felt nauseated and light-headed from the rush of adrenaline, and my mind was still ringing from the dreadful shock my nerves and senses had been subjected to.

As I ascended the basement stairs, leaving the thing which had masqueraded as a human on the floor behind me, I felt as if a heavy weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I cannot even begin to guess at the relief his parents and sister would feel. I staggered into the hallway and shut the basement door behind me. The mother stood in the doorway to the parlour, her hands clutching at the wall in nervous agitation and for support. "It's finally over," I stuttered. Her eyes searched mine for any final confirmation that the horror was over; after so many years, could she dare to hope? "It's finally over," I repeated, a little more calmly and held her gaze till the realisation finally sunk in, and she fell to her knees and thanked the Lord; her frail body shaking with tears of joy and relief that the nightmare that finally been brought to an end.

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Is it possible to be sincere online anymore? even anonymous imageboards are coated with layers upon layers of post-irony. It does feel like whenever one tries to be sincere, it comes as corny (or "cringe" as kids like to say today) to the external audience. What we have left are places where inauthenticity runs rampant, whether it is as a means of protecting the self, or as a tool for social climbing. And I frankly hate it as this attitude has severed true connection and understanding with each other, replaced by passive-aggressive remarks and feminine behavior. I remember in the old internet days when one was permitted a certain degree of vulnerability, it wasn't a negative, it made connection with distant human beings possible, I had plenty of friends in that era. But at some point, the zeitgeist dictated that being urself was passé, that ironic detachment was the only way to present yourself to the rest. We dehumanized ourselves for what, petty ego protection? was it even worth it, now that everybody feels ,and is, lonely?
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RIP /qq/


I think it's a problem but at the same time am also guilty of engaging in it.


Define sincere. Being a whiny cunt blog posting has always been looked down upon. No one gives a shit and doesn't want you attention seeking all over the place.

Genuine discussion has shifted because real life connected with the internet. The same front people use IRL now applies online as well. And the people being sneering faggots are doing it while shitting. So you have defensive users taking the internet seriously and retards who don't give a fuck sneering at them while wiping their buttholes.


>was it even worth it
No, but there is no way back.

YouTube embed. Click thumbnail to play.


Did you read that book?




No, but I think psy stuff is pretty interesting in general.

>Project Jedi

>Jedi sought to use neurolingusitic programming (NLP) as a new way of teaching recruits to fire weapons. This was done through psychological analysis of the thought-patterns of experts shooters as they fired. Soldiers were then trained to fire, some according to the NLP 'guided imagery' and others per conventional instruction. Training time was reduced almost by half for the NLP group.


>account terminated
Lol, wut? Are they just banning all conspiracy content now or did he have some other form of wrogthink on his channel? I preferred programmed to kill anyway and it seems more legit based on the slivers of info available. Makes more sense in the framework of the pedocracy too.


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Was probably something else on the channel that was too much crimethink.

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x1 disagree


I hate trans people


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I unironically stopped reading trash literature after finishing it. It's not the only book you'll ever need but if you soak in it's lessons it will put you off a lot of the others. Also evola is still a fag.

George Lincoln Rockwell described reading mein kampf as a "religious experience" and built a shrine to Hitler in his front room after finishing it. That's the kind of person that mein kampf inspires as opposed to the weird trannies and mouthbreathing alt kikers that jerk off evola.

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is he the best contemporary writer?


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Q knows. #WWG1WGA




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Which should I read first: the complete fairy tales of the Brothers Grimm or the complete fairy tales of Hans Christian Andersen?


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Try reading Siege by James Mason.

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Tell us a tale, anon. Anything that you would think we'd find most interesting. A startling night on the town? A funny gamer moment? Your coming out story? Whats your story?

Non format specific (use green text or normal format)

I'll start:

I used to work in a movie theatre back in 2014. It was in a very populated city so there was a verity of co-workers. One of them was named John, who was a very flamboyant homosexual. So much so he would always wear an ascot to work even when we wore uniforms. He was new and the brother of the manager at the time. I, being fairly blue-pilled and open to new social relationships, chose to strike up a conversation with John through out our shifts together.

A few shifts down the road and one day John came in seemingly depressed. We haven't built up much of a friendship other than the shifts we worked together but I did my best to be nice and ask him what was wrong. He said something along the lines of a relationship problem and I offered fairly good advice to handling it.

A week or two later, we worked together again and once again he had the same sort of relationship problem. It hit me as weird at first because I felt like his first issue was pretty well resolved with the right decision making skills but to my surprise it was with a new partner. Brushing it off in the assumption that the last one was just the end of a longer relationship, I offered advice and we went along our way.

This back and forth went on for the remaining three months I worked at the theatre. It was like every week he'd have a new issue with a new boyfriend and they all revolved around petty high school girl drama and "he said, she said" faggotry. It was also relieved at some point that most of these men came from a Grindr app. Needless to say my patience with John was wearing. Even if it was a new relationship, he refused to learn the same lessons he was given from the last 5 or 10 men he fucked before hand. I was nearing my final week when I final gave in with giving up with his bullshit. "Why" I asked him "Why do you keep meeting up with these men you meet on an app? Don't you thin you want to take a break if you're really think you're being stalked by this guy?"

John paused momentarily to reflect on the question. "yeah," he giggled, "but I like having fun"
Post too long. Click here to view the full text.


"Heil hitler, nice dubs", I began. But suddenly realised I was talking to a raging homosexual. How raging? Well let's just say both of his ample heads were red and bulging. "You a nazi, Billy?" he said, for Billy is my name. "Quite so although we find the term nazi to be quite offensive as it is a slur and not at all a nice thing to say to one whom you accuse of being thereof" "Soz Guv'nor" Then he turned his head away and spat and walked on. We set forth across the street like two streaks of bacon on the asphalt mesa straddling the dividing line between chaos and order between cooked and raw. My arm hurt so I thought about John he was real swell that John I should look him up some time. I supposed I should tell you about John. Well John was 185 cm tall he stood perpendicular to the Earth most of the day but was known to become horizontal in his more intimate moments. He had a face that looked sad like a youthful looking man looking sad though he was not morose by nature just in countenance. We had taken to calling him John of the sad face as a subtle jibe towards his habit of carrying around a copy of Easy Rider (1969) 4k HD [YIFY] at all times in case someone tried to hassle him, which they never did due to his biker attitude and cool biker bandana. At that very moment someone shouted out "faggots in the road" and a group of local youths and laborers began laughing as myself and Eric wheeled around desperately searching for the uncouth haranguer as he continued "get your faggots in the road" and we realised to our mortification that he was refering to a nearby pail of wood. "Thank you good sir I had forgot them momentarily upon this avenue". "No problem luv" And then we saw him dressed in bad biker attitude gear and assless pants smoking a cigarillo. He stood about seven feet tall and was completely hairless even around his juicy anus. He eyed us wearily like a freshly face raped whore reliving her childhood abuse in the moments before another nigger shoves his nigger aids cock down her throat. "Are you a faggot by any chance?" I inquired. "Depends on what you can pay" "Ahh a business man or as I like to say commerce sense" I began wheezing with laughter at my witticism. With dreadful tears in my eyes I turned to my companion who was convulsing like a retard with dreadful guffaws. Even the faggot was laughing and we could see his anus winking sympathetically in the sunPost too long. Click here to view the full text.

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Overrated or properly rated?


Europeans romanticize him because he looked kind of gay in photoshoots, while nips are ashamed of him because he advocated for nationalism and even killed himself for it.


Assuming OP means overrated or properly rated by shut-in edgy weebs, he's properly rated, but for all the wrong reasons.


>demanded that the Emperor step down because he no longer claimed divinity
>set up a meme coup because he wanted to do the equivalent of livestreaming his ritual suicide
Mishima was based.


properly rated, but he's got a cult of personality among people that probably haven't read his stuff

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Repoasting them here for preservations sake
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San andreas review

This is simultaneously an extremely enjoyable movie, and entirely forgettable.

In execution it's arguably the best "disaster movie" made since maybe the original batch of them, however it's script is so generic in its design that it comes off as extremely bland. The action is very fun, and the performance by Rock, Daddario, and most of the main cast are good. However I couldn't tell you a single thing about what happens in the story or any of the characters names until I rewatched it for this review.

The strangest thing about the film is the step-dad character played by the guy who was mr. fantastic, he seems like a nice guy well enough, but then he just abandons daddario with no build up and then gets killed. It's such a bizarre no build up occurrence and is the only less than ideal thing in the film. Other than that it's hard to find "flaws" or "plotholes" with what's occuring, but sometimes good execution isn't enough.

Films need SOMETHING to make them real, a perfectly logical approach isn't enough, sometimes that can be a performance, normally LITTY MAN Dwayne Johnson delivers that, I've watched countless films that are complete trash that he's in like skyscraper for example but he doesn't do that for this film, He's good in it, and a lot of fun in the moment, but I don't have a strong memory of what he does in it.

I can reccomend this film as something to watch on like tv or something, but it isn't worth going out of the way far.


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Baywatch Review

Baywatch is where the whole "litty" meme began and frankly it's only really an enjoyable film if you keep the interaction and way rock promoted the film in mind.

As a comedy, there really are few memorable jokes in the film, the most obvious one I can think of is the fat jew kid getting his penis stuck in the pool chair, other than that it's really more just "comedic interactions" and banter. Efron and dwayne have decent chemistry, but it's arguably one of his weakest comedic outings to date, that being said the plot isn't as obnoxious as some of the other films he's been in, and it being a more "adult" comedy does wonders as it isn't constrained or neutered like some of the family comedies the rock was in in the mid 2000s, Rock really only works in a Pg-13 and up setting, which is why his returns to WWE in the PG era have all sucked ass pretty much universally. He needs to be able to talk his style which this film allows him to do.

The cameos from the old baywatch cast are fine, but as someone who wasn't really attached to the old tv show it was somewhat odd constantly hearing references to how "they're just lifeguards why are they solving crimes" but I picked up pretty quick that it was the plot of the OG Show, and understood the jokes from there.

Alexandria daddario is really fucking hot in the movie, as is the girl who they got to play the modern version of pamela anderson's character. However the titilation in general throughout the film is surprisingly limited, and I would have liked a bit more, and at least SOME female nudity in an R rated comedy film. I suppose that's a modern cultural change, but if this was made in the 90s or the early 00s I can imagine this being much better. Anyways, I don't really enjoy seeing gratuity in films personally, but at least daddario has gone nude before to great success and this is the exact kind of thing that would help a film like this, especially if it's played up for comedic effect.

The biggest strength of the film is when the female indian villain gets blown the fuck up at the end, it fuckin rocked seeing a woman fucking die a horrible miserable death on screen. Badass man


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Gridiron Gang, Snitch, and the case for soundtracks

For one of the last "litty reviews I'm going to do here (video tomrrow plus big discussion stream) I'm gonna compare two movies, Gridiron Gang, and Snitch.

On paper, Snitch is a far more interesting film, having the rock as a civilian go undercover to save his son from an unjust prison sentence is a fun setup for a good thriller/action flick, and the amount of shootouts, car stunts, and tense scenes should make this film an easy win. Conversely gridiron gang is the exact kind of movie I should hate, a "feel-good" story about poor dindus at juvenile prison coming together to make a football team, and going on to triumph over the evil wacist whitey time in the playoffs. Everything about this film screams "not good" on paper, but the movies differ in one MAJOR category that makes snitch a bland forgettable flick, and Gridiron gang one of the most enjoyable films Dwayne has been in. The soundtrack

The soundtrack in gridiron gang is just fucking incredible, it soars, it builds, it's classical in design, but has some influence from prog-rock as well the composer was the guitarist for YES back in the day. Conversely the soundtrack in Snitch is bland, forgettable, somber, and drags what could be tense scenes of action into slow trudges through monotony. There's a scene where a semi-truck does a full crazy drift flip off a turnpike, and the music playing deafens all the noise, and just has low drone shit going on. I understand you want to go with a serious tone, but this doesn't enhance that, it just makes the situations less impactful and tense. Gridiron gang's soundtrack takes boring scenes and makes them incredible, Snitch's takes crazy scenes and makes them boring. This combined with the AMAZING speeches rock delivers in this film which are word-for-word lifted from the documentary this film is based on make Gridiron gang an extremely emotional, fun, and just all around great film to behold. I can't recommend it enough, at least for listening to rocky's speeches and the OST on jewtube or something. Snitch is okay as well, but not something you should go out of your way to see in my opinion


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The following two aren't mine but I'm gonna repost them anyway

The Jesus narrative in Walking Tall (2004)
by, litty!!5R7V6Dzn3I

In honor of litty week, I will post my scholarly review of Walking Tall (2004) in relation to the Jesus narrative.

Here are the timestamps that allude to the film operating on 2 levels:
At 2:40, Chris Vaughn sees a mother leaving her child to obtain drugs. This is comparable to the many times that Jesus witness's degeneracy and Pharisees who don't fulfill the law properly just as how this mother isn't doing her duty.

Chris tells his nephew that it will rain. The nephew doesn't listen, but it ends up raining. This is like Jesus prophesizing and people denying him.

At 9:27 there is secrecy when the nephew asks Chris if he killed people. Chris doesn't respond, Jesus displays this type of secrecy many times in the gospel of Mark.

At 16:18 Chris witness degeneracy at the casino. This is like Jesus witnessing degeneracy the temple. The casino represents the 2nd temple. It is the central hub for all of Judaism and contains immoral things occurring within the temple.
Post too long. Click here to view the full text.


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Since it's litty week I thought we should discuss the litty little summer romp that was Jumanji, and it's sequel Jumanji: The Next Level. What do you think of the new soft reboots? I thought the first was a decent little flick. The body swap premise is fun and the cast absolutely go with it. Dwayne Johnson and Kevin Hart basically play the same duo they always do, Jack Black does the camp thing (which is not as annoying as you might think) and Karen Gillan plays a shy inexperienced teen, which made my dick hard. The comedy is pretty broad and you probably won't laugh more than once or twice but the interpersonal stuff with the teens is actually quite well done. There are some genuinely good lessons for younger audiences beyond the played out "be yourself" or "stand up to bullies". There are even some RAUNCHY jokes in there for those of you wanting some raunchy summer fun.

Second one is definitely weaker and feels like a retread, the only real thing that feels fresh here is Danny Devito and his black friend making a bunch of "old people don't get vidya" jokes which is about as good as it gets. After that it just feels like the first film again. Awkwafina adds nothing, I don't know why the fuck she gets all these roles, I hate her voice, her acting, her look and everything. They try and change up the scenery to a desert, then a snowy mountain but it really does nothing to change the fact that the concept is exactly the same. They could've mixed up the characters a bit, both in real life and in Jumanji, that would've helped it along. The emotional core of this film is the two old guys and the film would've been better if this was the focus instead of the break-up sub-plot. Unless Jumanji 3 completely drops the ball this will definitely be remembered as the worst of the trilogy.

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