I knew a guy in college. I liked him. He was funny. He made me smile. He was on the cheerleading squad with a cute little blonde cheerleader that he was absolutely crazy about. When he was pining for her, he'd loudly play the same song over and over again. It'd drive the rest of us on the floor crazy. This went on for an entire semester. When I hear that song now, I always think of him. He still makes me smile. ---As you probably guessed, he never got the girl. Unlike the movies, they never get the girl.
Just as how songs reveal things about their song writers, so does visual art reveal things about its artists.
In the old concept artist circles, this used to be well known, and it was regularly taught to students that they needed to put away their own desires and tendencies lest it creep into their work. Some of these tendencies ranged from the fairly tame, like Feng Zhu's tendency to make everything look like a gun, to the very sordid, like the art typically found in the horror and sci-fi horror genre. While some were more successful at curbing this, others allowed their own "intrusive thoughts" to take over and put to page some really disturbing stuff. Thus, the need to for the artist to keep himself in check. Yet at the end of the day, it always proved true that the art betrayed the artist, and it was indeed impossible to completely separate the art from the artist.
This is akin to a snipit of a documentary called, they sold their souls for rock and roll. By Joe S. I believe, my wife and I have the 10 hour edition. But the free one on his site is beyond worth watching.
Even if you are a person who normally doesn't watch other oeoples stuff or finds his form of communication appealing.
I have observed that songs like this and other Delta/Gamma-style music that have romantic undertones and that became popular with women as well as the average man generally fall into a category reminiscent of Jordan Peterson babble. That is, the song lyrics posts as mirror. A Delta or Gamma listening to this relates on the order of unconfessed attraction to a specific woman, while a woman listening to this probably imagines that the Alpha who doesn't pay much attention to her but is nice to her in general recurring social situations is in reality harboring a secret love for her.
It's no wonder a song like this becomes popular when it captures the largest segments of both the male and female populations.
The pattern also appears in romantic fiction, but with the addition of another Alpha to give the female character (and reader) a dilemma of choice.
The song works well. On the matter of Stephen King, I could never work up interest to reading his stories, except for The Stand. Dean Koontz is better in this genre, at least seems to understand good as a real force, often sacrificing itself for the defense of the innocent.
The song works well. On the matter of Stephen King, I could never work up interest to reading his stories, except for The Stand. Dean Koontz is better in this genre, at least seems to understand good as a real force, often sacrificing itself for the defense of the innocent.
The song works well. On the matter of Stephen King, I could never work up interest to reading his stories, except for The Stand. Dean Koontz is better in this genre, at least seems to understand good as a real force, often sacrificing itself for the defense of the innocent.
How can we not mention the great Gamma sagga of Eric Clapton and Patty Boyd.
The motherfucker was a friend of George Harrison, someone way greater than him, then get crazily obsessed about George's wife.
Probably he made all kind of indiscretions, but as Mr Harrison is a gentleman and there was no chance of Eric getting what he wanted he probably let it pass.
Then, the MF writes a song for his friend's wife, advances on her, she rebufes his advances, he gets in a spiral of heroine use and almost dies.
Speaking of the devil, Jon del Arroz recently read a foreword Gaiman wrote for another book:
J.B.C. MacBride had a secret.
“You mustn’t tell anyone.”
“Okay.”
Richard had no problem with the idea of keeping secrets. In later years he realised that he was a walking repository of old secrets, secrets that his original confidantes had probably long forgotten.
They were walking, with their arms over each other’s shoulders, up to the woods at the back of the school.
Richard had, unasked, been gifted with another secret in these woods: it is here that three of Richard’s schoolfriends have meetings with girls from the village, and where, he has been told, they display to each other their genitalia.
“I can’t tell you who told me any of this.”“Okay,” said Richard.
“I mean, it’s true. And it’s a deadly secret.”
“Fine.”
MacBride had been spending a lot of time recently with Mr Aliquid, the school chaplain.
“Well, everybody has two angels. God gives them one and Satan gives them one. So when you get hypnotised, Satan’s angel takes control. And that’s how Ouija boards work. It’s Satan’s angel. And you can implore your God’s angel to talk through you. But real enlightenment only occurs when you can talk to your angel. He tells you secrets.”
This was the first time that it had occurred to Grey that the Church of England might have its own esoterica, its own hidden caballah.
The other boy blinked owlishly. “You mustn’t tell anyone that. I’d get into trouble if they knew I’d told you.”
“Fine.”
There was a pause.
“Have you ever wanked off a grown up?” asked MacBride.
“No.” Richard’s own secret was that he had not yet begun to masturbate. All of his friends masturbated, continually, alone and in pairs or groups. He was a year younger than them, and couldn’t understand what the fuss was about; the whole idea made him uncomfortable.
“Spunk everywhere. It’s thick and oozy. They try to get you to put their cocks in your mouth when they shoot off.”
“Eugh.”
“It’s not that bad.” There was a pause. “You know, Mr Aliquid thinks you’re very clever. If you wanted to join his private religious discussion group, he might say yes.”
WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK, MAN??
This is disgusting! Who writes about teenagers wanking off grown ups? I mean, that's gotta be a whole new level of creep. This is a book for TEENAGE GIRLS! This guy is sick to his bones!
Ohh, why you gotta hate on gammas so much? HERE! That's why! Fucking creeps and pedos!
If you are a parent, please watch out what your kids read. Apparently the gamma doesn't need close proximity to still fuck with your child's psyche.
A friend of mine, who has had a life of absolute crazy, and met a lot of women with crazy of their own, said that women have a floor. Truly fucked-up dudes don't have a lowest, as they can always surprise you with even worse depravities. Women have a clue that something's off with themselves. Women with the worst of issues can always be expected to follow along, so long as the man has a spine, and isn't completely worthless.
Before I read this, I had no clue why the man is a gamma when women want to hit him, and at the same time, would never touch him. Now I get why it's the first description.
So apparently that's another thing Gaiman and Stephen King have in common, they enjoy graphic descriptions of teenage circle jerks and of men soliciting boys for bjs in the absolute most disgusting terms possible. Noted.
Now that you mention it, yes, there are a couple of them that are down right f@ggy. The guys who sing in high-pitched voices. I think Bobby Vinton was a little bit of a creep.
I don't know the numbers, but my personal observation is that most Steven King readers are women. Anybody else notice the same thing? If so, does anyone have a theory on why that's the case?
I've seen women desperately justify to a group why something they clearly didn't like is actually brilliant, just so they agree with the "consensus." Funnier, I've seen a whole group gaslight themselves that way.
Gammas seem to be the most strikingly defined personality. The characteristics described by Vox are always 100% present leaving no doubt who you’re dealing with. The only thing lacking is a sign around their necks. As soon as Stephen King started killing children in his novels, it was time to step away. Far away.
REO’s Cronin and Neil Gaiman have an unmistakably similar physiognomy.
I tried to write a gaiman inspired "in da tub" 50 cent remix. Not my skillset but there's potential.
I knew a guy in college. I liked him. He was funny. He made me smile. He was on the cheerleading squad with a cute little blonde cheerleader that he was absolutely crazy about. When he was pining for her, he'd loudly play the same song over and over again. It'd drive the rest of us on the floor crazy. This went on for an entire semester. When I hear that song now, I always think of him. He still makes me smile. ---As you probably guessed, he never got the girl. Unlike the movies, they never get the girl.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VcjzHMhBtf0
Just as how songs reveal things about their song writers, so does visual art reveal things about its artists.
In the old concept artist circles, this used to be well known, and it was regularly taught to students that they needed to put away their own desires and tendencies lest it creep into their work. Some of these tendencies ranged from the fairly tame, like Feng Zhu's tendency to make everything look like a gun, to the very sordid, like the art typically found in the horror and sci-fi horror genre. While some were more successful at curbing this, others allowed their own "intrusive thoughts" to take over and put to page some really disturbing stuff. Thus, the need to for the artist to keep himself in check. Yet at the end of the day, it always proved true that the art betrayed the artist, and it was indeed impossible to completely separate the art from the artist.
Here's a song from the Middle Ages that expresses a similar sentiment.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LDIljrlYaVg
This is akin to a snipit of a documentary called, they sold their souls for rock and roll. By Joe S. I believe, my wife and I have the 10 hour edition. But the free one on his site is beyond worth watching.
Even if you are a person who normally doesn't watch other oeoples stuff or finds his form of communication appealing.
Very in depth and informative.
I have observed that songs like this and other Delta/Gamma-style music that have romantic undertones and that became popular with women as well as the average man generally fall into a category reminiscent of Jordan Peterson babble. That is, the song lyrics posts as mirror. A Delta or Gamma listening to this relates on the order of unconfessed attraction to a specific woman, while a woman listening to this probably imagines that the Alpha who doesn't pay much attention to her but is nice to her in general recurring social situations is in reality harboring a secret love for her.
It's no wonder a song like this becomes popular when it captures the largest segments of both the male and female populations.
The pattern also appears in romantic fiction, but with the addition of another Alpha to give the female character (and reader) a dilemma of choice.
The song works well. On the matter of Stephen King, I could never work up interest to reading his stories, except for The Stand. Dean Koontz is better in this genre, at least seems to understand good as a real force, often sacrificing itself for the defense of the innocent.
Does the song work well?
The song works well. On the matter of Stephen King, I could never work up interest to reading his stories, except for The Stand. Dean Koontz is better in this genre, at least seems to understand good as a real force, often sacrificing itself for the defense of the innocent.
The song works well. On the matter of Stephen King, I could never work up interest to reading his stories, except for The Stand. Dean Koontz is better in this genre, at least seems to understand good as a real force, often sacrificing itself for the defense of the innocent.
I'm seeing triple on my end, probably a browser/server communication thing.
Love the song Vox. Thanks for including the third hook, it brings a sense of closure. Don't know why so many artists cut it out.
How can we not mention the great Gamma sagga of Eric Clapton and Patty Boyd.
The motherfucker was a friend of George Harrison, someone way greater than him, then get crazily obsessed about George's wife.
Probably he made all kind of indiscretions, but as Mr Harrison is a gentleman and there was no chance of Eric getting what he wanted he probably let it pass.
Then, the MF writes a song for his friend's wife, advances on her, she rebufes his advances, he gets in a spiral of heroine use and almost dies.
The perfect gamma love story.
...and then Clapton married Patty Boyd.
Except Clapton wasn’t a Gamma.
Speaking of the devil, Jon del Arroz recently read a foreword Gaiman wrote for another book:
J.B.C. MacBride had a secret.
“You mustn’t tell anyone.”
“Okay.”
Richard had no problem with the idea of keeping secrets. In later years he realised that he was a walking repository of old secrets, secrets that his original confidantes had probably long forgotten.
They were walking, with their arms over each other’s shoulders, up to the woods at the back of the school.
Richard had, unasked, been gifted with another secret in these woods: it is here that three of Richard’s schoolfriends have meetings with girls from the village, and where, he has been told, they display to each other their genitalia.
“I can’t tell you who told me any of this.”“Okay,” said Richard.
“I mean, it’s true. And it’s a deadly secret.”
“Fine.”
MacBride had been spending a lot of time recently with Mr Aliquid, the school chaplain.
“Well, everybody has two angels. God gives them one and Satan gives them one. So when you get hypnotised, Satan’s angel takes control. And that’s how Ouija boards work. It’s Satan’s angel. And you can implore your God’s angel to talk through you. But real enlightenment only occurs when you can talk to your angel. He tells you secrets.”
This was the first time that it had occurred to Grey that the Church of England might have its own esoterica, its own hidden caballah.
The other boy blinked owlishly. “You mustn’t tell anyone that. I’d get into trouble if they knew I’d told you.”
“Fine.”
There was a pause.
“Have you ever wanked off a grown up?” asked MacBride.
“No.” Richard’s own secret was that he had not yet begun to masturbate. All of his friends masturbated, continually, alone and in pairs or groups. He was a year younger than them, and couldn’t understand what the fuss was about; the whole idea made him uncomfortable.
“Spunk everywhere. It’s thick and oozy. They try to get you to put their cocks in your mouth when they shoot off.”
“Eugh.”
“It’s not that bad.” There was a pause. “You know, Mr Aliquid thinks you’re very clever. If you wanted to join his private religious discussion group, he might say yes.”
WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK, MAN??
This is disgusting! Who writes about teenagers wanking off grown ups? I mean, that's gotta be a whole new level of creep. This is a book for TEENAGE GIRLS! This guy is sick to his bones!
Ohh, why you gotta hate on gammas so much? HERE! That's why! Fucking creeps and pedos!
If you are a parent, please watch out what your kids read. Apparently the gamma doesn't need close proximity to still fuck with your child's psyche.
A friend of mine, who has had a life of absolute crazy, and met a lot of women with crazy of their own, said that women have a floor. Truly fucked-up dudes don't have a lowest, as they can always surprise you with even worse depravities. Women have a clue that something's off with themselves. Women with the worst of issues can always be expected to follow along, so long as the man has a spine, and isn't completely worthless.
Before I read this, I had no clue why the man is a gamma when women want to hit him, and at the same time, would never touch him. Now I get why it's the first description.
So Gammas and Lambdas are closely related or heavily overlap too. According to this disgusting account.
So apparently that's another thing Gaiman and Stephen King have in common, they enjoy graphic descriptions of teenage circle jerks and of men soliciting boys for bjs in the absolute most disgusting terms possible. Noted.
Thank you, you put it perfectly! All those idiots who worship Stephen King! He’s such a sicko!
Its also poor writing. Can't even tell who is speaking in the dialogue. No dialogue attributions.
I’ve been calling REO Speedwagon “wuss rock” forever. It all makes sense now.
Now that you mention it, yes, there are a couple of them that are down right f@ggy. The guys who sing in high-pitched voices. I think Bobby Vinton was a little bit of a creep.
I don't know the numbers, but my personal observation is that most Steven King readers are women. Anybody else notice the same thing? If so, does anyone have a theory on why that's the case?
I hadn’t realized that at all. That’s very interesting. I’m glad you brought it up. I liked his books when I was much youngeras well.
Some women write to serial killers in jail. Some sort of attraction towards open evil as power maybe.
I've seen women desperately justify to a group why something they clearly didn't like is actually brilliant, just so they agree with the "consensus." Funnier, I've seen a whole group gaslight themselves that way.
King is a "genius author."
Gammas seem to be the most strikingly defined personality. The characteristics described by Vox are always 100% present leaving no doubt who you’re dealing with. The only thing lacking is a sign around their necks. As soon as Stephen King started killing children in his novels, it was time to step away. Far away.
His books are not horror: they are disturbing in the worst way possible.
And any mind that can come up with that stuff should be examined, thoroughly.