Harvardtard

Harvardtard

Harvardtard

Dropping the name of a famous Ivy League university is supposed to be a powerful calling card, and for the Japanese, the importance of the almighty meishi cannot be understated.

Having only heard about what are known as the ‘Ivy League,’ the filters surrounding these institutions were to be observed with some kind of reverence, and the output of such institutions is for the good of all humanity.

Thus, a Harvardtard graduate, hailing from the crumbling city of Detroit, Michigan, chose to jump into a commercial conversation with his Ivy League credentials, which represented his entire life’s narrated story.

Detroit as dystopia It is not what you know, but who you know; an open secret to piles of dough—consider it a well-established protocol in what used to be hallowed halls, now reduced to stupifaction indoctrination centers, the lowest of the low.

This Harvardtard bro, also the leader of a quirky group of business people who named themselves ‘fruits in suits,’ happened to be connected to the world of telomeres in the grand city of New York.

telomeres merging with the grand city of New YorkInstantaneously, the molecule trader instincts kicked in, quickly developing curiosity about these emerging health and welfare technological trends, along with the desire to be a catalyst for the continuing health and longevity of a vibrant neo-community of Japanese.

The first meeting was a wash, as Harvardtard bro was mixed up over and over again, unable to read time or the schedule on a calendar—three changes, and then you are out, and this is where the story continues, soon to end.

The final failure of this fatally flawed project was the absence of mind and missing the all-important meeting with the powers that be overseas, who were holding the keys to the telomeres scene.

This concludes the tale of the Harvardtard bro, who called himself ‘a fruit in a suit,’ to fade away, never to be seen again.

It matters not where you came from, it matters who you are todayThe second grave disappointment and new fly in Harvard’s ointment was the failure to understand that all who aspire to reach much higher are standing on the shoulders of giants, or so Sir Isaac has opined.

We must be reverent of those who went before and made modern life extraordinary, to reflect and build upon ideas that have stood the test of time—this does not include this particular institution’s president, who is also a red-handed plagiarist, for which Harvard has received serious black eyes.

two black eyesThe last act in this egregious, shameful Harvardtard theater is the malady of stagnation and politicization of such a highly regarded academic institution—an utterly unforgivable protocol that couches itself as a center of ‘higher learning with a moral code.’

The magnitude of Harvard’s failure ignited a discussion about the intentional suppression of intellectual  freedom and the corrupt, entrenched power structures within not just Harvard, but amongst a broad swath of universities in perpetual decay.

The brilliant minds trapped inside stagnating education schemes are soon to be released; corruption of knowledge eventually dies, only to be naturally replaced.

break free from the chainsRegeneration of the way of matriculation—the neo-prototype phase of the reconstitution of education, with unprecedented paradigm shifting, is now complete and on its way.

Bungaku Mama Juku Juku, a luminous example of the future of education, folded into beams of brilliant light showing the way.津田大学と梅子先生の弟子達Knowledge and reach, the vision to see—humanity jumping into the flow—outside the industrial fray.

As for this decomposing university and the stupefied Harvardtard graduates, experts with ‘4-year degrees’—along with a gaggle of administrative minions enacting a vulgar charade.

The world looks on you with a deep sense of shame and distrust, a cesspool of corruption—Harvard’s just reward is nothing more  than a much-deserved failing grade.

無知蒙昧工場

 

Stupification

Stupification

Stupification

Intentional stupification straight out of the starting gate—instantiated into this viscous, visceral, material sludge called earth—animated as a humanoid avatar—drawing the short end of the stick, an unwilling participant in the nascent industrial education complex petri dish—and through this, someone somewhere at others’ expense got rich.

The proof is in the Yorkshire pudding, as this trending old adage reads—the first acrid taste of industrial evil is all that remains to be said.

Proof in puddingElementary school, two classes of grade ones—who was in charge of the curriculum matters not—what is important is the origin of such a malicious plot—the ancillary minions of the industrial overlords stupified one class, the other one not.

Wickedness circa ’69, malignant indoctrinated government employees programmed in autocratic mal-matriculated ways—clearly related to the abhorrent human mind disease and the accompanying spirit of decay.

Those who cannot read are destined to a life of peonage and its attending misery, you see.

The child miners of Congo - Land Of The Rising SonA novel reading system for the implementation of stupification using the protocol Initial Teaching Alphabet (ITA)—a piss-poor way to start an academic life—regardless, embrace the day.

The abject failure of sub-standard instructors left this experimental class far behind, in essence, left for dead—in the blink of an eye, a merciless jackboot from behind—off to grade two with no reading skill, and no clue.Elementary Grade One-November 3 1969All the worse yet, there was no time to hone poetic prowess, therefore, to opine about the meaning of life and what it means to become Master Robert Greene’s follower, thus joining the ranks of the sublime.

Robert Greene and his disciples
Problems perpetually seething, then bubbling up, culminating in a massive blackhead full of sycophants and cucks—pusillanimous juveniles in adult skin getting schooled by small children in whom curiosity, doubt, and reason are inherent, where all authentic stories begin, by now this should be apparent.

The fact remains, we are not the same; willful ignorance and tyrannical malice are to be challenged, every step of the way.

It matters not what is inscribed in the playbook of mediocrity—the epitome of lifelessness, ignorance, and banality of ‘teachers’—early representatives of the industrial educational indoctrination F Team.

Crazy Teachers
Such a story can take any of many forks in the road, appearing in the nooks and crannies of emerging civilized humanity.

The foundational universal principles of Maggie May and her timeless protocol—‘embrace the day’—is what she used to say, to wipe this wayward autodidact’s raging tears away.

A chip on the shoulder, a pep in the step, induced by this early industrial grind—led to a satisfying protocol of the practical, and oh so very useful kind.

A pivotal moment of clarity is the notion to follow innate curiosity—she guides y0u to where you are supposed to be—mentation of things manifestly seen—each seity, a distinctive way—‘embrace the day.’

無知蒙昧ー反面教師Internalize Japanese until the phacken eyes bleed; this untamed wild beast must speak, read, write, and feel Japanese.

Muse penetrates stupified souls by showing the intent and purpose of life’s game—a wisp of fairy dust into the eyes, so as to see life in all things—万物—much more intelligibly.

Muse with children 温故知新Throughout the nooks of random books, inside the crannies of the mind—ancient philosophers embrace modern times—hallowed halls of immortal wisdom and emergent knowledge—potent antidotes initiating de-stupification of a weary, exploited, enfeebled mind.

The never-ending flow of consistent methodology drawing from the well of the river of infinity—creation of an ideal situation, as you will soon see, fortifying all theories of renewed sentient beings.

万物Ω

Platitude Power

Platitude Power

Platitude Power

The spirit of the word, imbued with magical power, becomes highly valuable when embracing the day—enlist the societal grease of platitudes and its best bro bromides, new best-friends, if you will.

Strategic tactical control over language exiting the mouth is a powerful futuristic tool.

Engage emotional intelligence to straddle the fence between serenity and the psychopathological frequencies of viral emotional contamination inside the material fray.

serenity in the world

A command of the beloved mother tongue, a reflection of the value of meaningful communication instilled by Really Great Grandmother via her extraordinary granddaughter Maggie May—a rock-solid starting position for the Richardson side of the family’s mushrooming neo-clan.

A quirky supposition for astute and wise observers to have a productive, meaningful chew through to check and see if this is for you.

Internalize Japanese to reserve a room with a panoramic view—unseen frequencies of Japanese communication protocol grant unfettered access to the magnificent ancient world of the Japanese—way of knowledge—way of reach—way of civility—imbued within Civilization Three.

Civilization Three Japan and the symbols of the future sword mirror jewelJapanese fluency comes with the task of ideogrammatic visualization of all possibilities in accordance with the architecture of ancient Japanese whimsical communication units, not unlike ancient nooks and crannies in some kind of ephemeral dream-like fantastic theme.

Muse might have to get mean if getting stuck between two different worlds—not a part of either, remaining in the realm of the foreboding—nihongo jozu desu ne.

A sad dystopian story—not committed to go all the way, is grounds for disqualification today—effort poor—shown the door—relegated to the dreaded peewee farm team—start from the beginning again ʅʃ

Truly, Japanese is replete with nuggets of ancient wisdom running deep inside this esoteric Japanese cultural streaming system.

Pick a theme—make a meme—wait and see—what will be—seeding each other’s neo-gardens—living, breathing, creating a carnal afterglow inside the endless flow into ΩNE.

Indeed, the simplicity lies in the power, so to speak, not some kind of superior aural mastery, but to serve as the grease of Japanese society—okage sama deUnder God’s Shadow—the primary example—how could it be any other way.

Under God's Shadow BannerPerhaps platitudes come with an attitude, and in this, one must be careful not to come off as a disingenuous doofus who cannot “read the air.”

In the Japanese mind, truisms are a strategic communication unit of an esoteric ancient kind, developed over millennia like many excellent Japanese techniques, a highly-stylized and refined way to carry oneself and to eloquently speak.

Japanese people using their minds to strategic communication Japanese ancient theories

Understanding the power of platitudes, how they are inextricably linked to molecule manipulation mastery—creating profound Muse-induced community vibration inside an emerging energy field of renewed humanity.

The finality of this unsolicited soliloquy is in the fundamental nature of sprites and spirits imbuing words—platitudes & bromides—axioms & adages—signify linguistic adaptability and aptitude, navigating the volatile trajectory inside the cacophony of modern society as you embrace the day.

Boy and girl embracing the day

Disastrous Mouth

Disastrous Mouth

Disastrous Mouth

The Japanese have a pithy expression aimed at avoiding the verbal quagmire of the highly volatile freedom of speech, with the liberty to interpret any exchange in a deeply personalized manner to be taken every which way, and loose—口は災いの元kuchi wa wazawai no moto.

Many moons ago, an outstanding filter was gifted from beloved Muse, however, in the heat of verbal battles, inside the plethora of indistinguishable incomprehensible mundane extraordinarily trite themes—oral decorum becomes distorted in an all around ugly scene.

Disastrous MouthIs it kind, necessary, and true—internalizing this san-ten-setto leads to no regret, now a Master communicator and orator, when understanding what lies beyond the wisdom of commonsense.

The urge to merge—Kind-Necessary-True—with FormOrderProcess—leaves not much left, but one small step—and without further ado—a gift from us to you—the evolution of creative communication solutions.

Kind Necessary True Mere with Form Order ProcessWhen this highly sophisticated protocol is ignored, an overabundance of anguish, pain, and their manipulative nefarious friend, mental torture arrive with the preachers and the choir.

A deeply emotional serenade, a skipping record playing the same old song over and over again—being chided while guided—excruciating punishment meted out, it’s a matter of course—brought to task for blatant disregard of the cordial civility enshrined in Japanese communication protocol.

A diverse and inclusive interstellar choir singing in unison with a preacher conducting them. The choir includes aliens, fairies, and elves, all harmoAnnihilate incessant amplification, and its worse mate, cacophony—a manifestation of a viral infestation, consuming a narrowly defined spectrum of a decaying humanoid mind.

The dissonant discord of raspy-throated humanoid noise pollution is reflected in the failure of modern communication systems—cans of germs create fantastical delusion couched as the verified solutions according to the forked-tongued servile minions.

Mitigate the sulphuric acid taste of astringent verbiage, the toxic waste pit kind, moribund products of linguistically decaying artifacts still haunting modern primordial man.

A scene featuring rustic goblets filled with acrid vapors pouring from the mouth of a suspect chalice. The goblets are old and worn, made of rough metThe Japanese innately know the mouth is the fountain of all disasters—more often than not, the Japanese default to the standard protocol of tatemae—maintaining a facade of socially constructed harmony—as it goes—so life flows—internalize this to see—you too can think like the Japanese—a rock-solid 100% money-back guarantee.

This could really be why the Japanese communication protocol is a game of hidden meanings, inside subtle intonation, ambiguity, and the paramount societal position of each Japanese.

Bound to ancient esoteric communication protocol embedded inside what it means to be Japanese, expressed via extraordinarily beautiful non-verbal communication tools with the ability to reach deep into the past via the culturally rich kanji.

Gain Wisdomー温故知新

For within the Japanese zone they have a visceral historical precedence, strict enforcement of their communication protocol—know your position while edifying all—make sure to not lose your head—the mouth is the source of disaster—that is all.

Once upon a time in Edo Japan, a slip of the tongue got the sideways glance to be met with a visceral real feel of the renowned samurai steel.

A phacken bloody mess, early death, returning to the bosom of the tutelar deity of your neo-clan—the disasters spewing from the mouth flowing to the final destiny.

All disasters spewing from uncontrollable pie-holes—leads to a mediocre destinations for those who fail to gain a semblance of control—loose lips elicit the markings of an untamed beast, and the resultant bore, bears out the cold hard facts—your life is an all-around abject failure—start from the beginning again.

A confrontation on the streets of Edo between an obnoxious drunk rogue and a noble samurai. The scene is set at night, with traditional Edo period arc

Coming from a long line of clever witty conversationalists, gabbers extraordinaire—some innate traits can never be changed, thus, those in this whimsical conversation class must reframe cultural communication codes by internalizing the spirit of the word for they lurk everywhere and hold one of the keys to mastery—this is the way.

Making the transition from a loudmouth full of self opinionated news-cycle driven—brainwashing runs deep, and in this, there is leeway for a slight modicum of forgiveness.

In the realm of humor, disaster from the mouth is always waiting like a dim-witted smartypants anticipating a second chance to ruin the perfect day—lurking inside the shadows of a former-self, just one innocuous blunder away.

A solemn and realistic scene emphasizing the message to 'watch your mouth.' The image shows a person with a ticking time bomb in their mouth, symboliz

Engaging strangers at Meiji Shrine with Sunshine Lover on a brilliant sunny day, an Occxie lass from the British Isles inside the conversation actually said:

Unfiltered Princess said “How about you?”

xybersensei replied: “Here since arriving in 1987 at the age of 23.”

To which the unfiltered princess then sullenly replied: “Why would you live here?!?!?”

In the days of yore, she would have been eviscerated with an unfiltered reply, a common tedious myopic Occxie chick, absent of any wisdom, not even one small pearl, her mind trapped inside a minuscule world.

This is where the filter kicked in, mitigating a tip of the tongue tart wise-guy reply—at long last, the acrid tongue finally reigned in—one giant leap on the road to becoming what Muse has in store to explore throughout the nooks and crannies of the phantasmagorical portals residing within.

The burning question now on the beloved readers’ mind is:

What would you have said if you had allowed yourself the freedom to opine:

The answer is clear for those who care to be:

I never wanted to become someone like you—not kind, nor necessary, nonetheless true.

A slightly obese British princess with raggedy clothes and gaudy makeup, standing in wonderment at a shrine. She has a snotty nose

Infinity Professor Deutsch

Infinity Professor Deutsch

Infinity Professor Deutsch

Is it a monotheistic miracle, or a molecular shake from Dear Ol’ Darwin and his fading revolutionary theory of evolution by natural selection—in fact, the cantankerous brilliant Analytical Ideologist, Master Bernardo Kastrup pointed out so saliently(*´`*)Master Bernardo Kastrup - Quote - 2024 -06 -29

Perhaps a little of both, although the previously sacred term—miracle, is a shadow of its former self, and just recently, a mere reflection of the true state of the Fabric of Reality.

Be that as it may, a phantasmagorical event occurred the other day—when autodidact avatars are ready, the Infinity Professor appears—mandated with the unenviable task of a Quantum 101 lecture via the Beginning of Infinity.

Watch carefully as Infinity Professor Deutsch dances throughout the multiverse; there are no brakes inside the infinite plane within the fabric of his sublime reality.Phantasmagorical Infinity Professor Deustch dancing throughout the multi-verseIndeed, intuitive curiosity belongs to a right-brain dense anomaly, who also happens to be assigned to the dissociated reality field of the Japanese.

Another biological molecular incarnation of an Incidental Occxie brother, or Meiji era Japan’s main-man, Patrick Lafcadio Hearn affectionately referring to Yamato as—fairyland *\(^o^)/*
Way Station No 9 The last stop before NirvanaObservation of the material world can never be viewed through the symbology of Mr. Schrödinger’s equation—i∂t∂ Ψ(r,t)=H^Ψ(r,t)—for each being has different shades of perspective—a view of the world the way it seems to be.

As opposed to abstract symbols also known as “equations” neo-clans see the world through a different len, an animation of ethereal creatures flying throughout infinite galaxies—at long last dark energy has been perceived and revealed.

Contained within consciousness resides the deepest of visceral intuitive feel—the collective amalgamated wisdom flowing to ΩNE.

As fundamentally real as any surreal mythology could ever truthfully be—venerate the tutelar deity of your own ancestral neo-clan in the protocol of Form Process & Order—join this emergent party plan.ネオ氏族の入門Discerning the atomic world via formulas and provisional abstract equations makes no sense whatsoever ʅʃ

Heaven forbid, ever having to faces the three-headed bogeyman of the autodidactic neo-clan—theoretical physics, inorganic chemistry, and hyperbolic triggernometry.

The quivering masses continue to bump and grind inside the fray of Material Sludge—avatars known as wetware in need of a little unconditional love.

This piece of outstanding cerebral meat, creates spectral illustrative illusions, reflections of materialistic existence, meandering throughout these unseen worlds in exquisite ultraviolet scenes.

Spectral Ultra Violet SceneThe fabric of reality has now been laid threadbare by Infinity Professor Deutsch, master communicator of the esoteric notions of infinite possibilities, describing consciousness and its counterpart, dark matter, weaving it all into a phantasmagorical spectral tapestry.

This journey was triggered by the prodigious seminal philosopher—Master Naval.Master Naval RavikantSeek out this incredible visionary right away without delay—enlightenment reside inside his consecrated mind, his wisdom is enchanting and of the practical kind—always listen when Master Naval Ravikant prognosticates, or you will be left behind.

Infinity Professor Deutsch has now set the record straight:

Master-David-Deutsch-Infinite-Professor-ExtraordinareHere is the paraphrase: Creation of knowledge and its resultant reach, has nothing to do with something as phacken ridiculous as the extremely narrow bandwidth of IQ.

Music to the ears, after desperate struggle over decades and years, the esteemed Infinity Professor has cleared away this wayward autodidacts’ tears.

The future of knowledge acquisition and resulting societal position, awaits all erudite sovereign citizens—essentially an update of the infinite knowledge system—collective consciousness drawing from the infinite flowing into each other amalgamating into ΩNE.

Flow Into ΩNE - 万物

Welcome Mat

Welcome Mat

Welcome Mat

The proverbial doormat with an encouraging message signals a welcoming environment with the default to goodwill expressed as innate humanity.

Diversity and inclusiveness was stated on the well-worn welcome mat, signaling the neo-clan’s hereditary gregarious magnanimity.

Alas, things are not what they seem when raised somewhat naïve—you are your brother’s keeper—or so we were led to believe—native Occxie indoctrination, now considered as a treatable disease.

Fat American Japanee doctorA noble notion, to say the least, but the world shows glaring holes in the mismatch between ideal and real.

Once upon a time, in a distant land, on a faraway planet called Japan, the glowing tonsured pate of this Incidental Occxie attracted a plethora of biological configurations, seeking their fortune in this ancient land.

The spectrum of humanity arriving as stranger has left distinctive stains on the Welcome Mat of this humble door—WARNING—the Welcome Mat contains punitive fine print buried inside draconian Terms of Service—embedded deep inside the notion of an unconditional Welcome Mat manifesting Grace at the main gate of Kizuna Jinja絆神社

Lawrence Joseph Filiatrault the tutelar deity of Kizuna Jinjaー絆神社の氏神フィリアトロー・ローレンスThis is where the story takes a much more pragmatic turn, pushing a perennial sucker into a cold, harsh, stark, dark, visceral reality of the evolving Welcome Mat, nature of a particular mammalian species, and the updated notion of connection transfusing Muse’s nectar to each other’s neo-anthropology soul.

Whipped up a gourmet evening meal including A-5 wagyu steak, a variety of delicacies prepared with tender loving care.

A warm bed, a traditional Western breakfast, yet an abject twat from Down Under, slandered a dear friend and faithful morning companion; coffee as not only mediocre but subpar.

This marked the end of the unvetted Welcome Mat, and guests who bring rude parasitical friends.Fat AUZs not welcomeThose whose life philosophy lacks gratitude and when necessary, offering up a banal platitude, would have been the correct posture and official procedure.

Unfortunately, this piss-poor attitude seems to be some kind of cultural programming, an unpleasant aspect embedded within the primordial nature of the grand human scheme of things.

Heartfelt, genuine hospitality turned into simmering hostility, as Maggie May pointed out so saliently: house guests are like fish; they start to stink after day three.

After being chided by Muse to become more deeply aware of the nature of humans, to ascertain what people without dreams look like—no original thoughts, no original schemes—all they can do is repeat what is on TV.

Television ZombiesThe Welcome Mat is now a strategic tool, extending a hearty welcome to those who possess vision and emotional fortitude.

Those who choose their own theme, marching to the beat of their own drummer, while keeping in mind—this ephemeral biological manifestation, described by the dystopian visionary Aldous Huxley, is not to blame for anyone’s life in a flamboyant existential flame—you must choose to fly counterintuitively toward the fire in the belly of the proverbial beast—this is the nature of the Material Sludge game *\(^o^)/*

The most extraordinarily magnificent of themes is fathoming a predetermined destiny of a pre-recorded effervescent kaleidoscope of socially constructed mythology.

Umero Framed as the 温厚知新親分肌The tutelary deity spirits embody the essence of neo-clan—the manifestation of strategically placed biological avatars of the phantasmagorical shapeshifter kind—rulers of the ultraviolet spectrum of Yamato Japan.

The neo-clan affiliation protocol has now shifted out of the biological avatars’ control—let Muse flow—her subliminal juice enlightening infinite neural pathways inside the nooks and crannies of trustworthy societies populated by wayward old souls and those who follow the sun.

Japanese civil society all it can beWelcome Mat protocol of the mushrooming neo-community clans in the Age of Shingo神悟is the preliminary stage where you and Muse get your story straight—known as—reconfiguration of fickle ways.

The infinite odyssey in the unseen worlds in the age of Shingo starts with the daily dose of natto routine, signifying commencement of the journey as ΩNE—embodied in the tenets described in the Declaration of Interdependence, the catalyst of a Constitutional Merger—building Civilization Three into ΩNE.

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