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  • Mental Ramblings

Hail, Caesar!

Updated: Apr 18, 2023

The clip has no real bearing on this other than I find it funny. Something made me think of old Julius though, maybe the Wire when Cheese talks about his name ringing out like Avon's - RIP Lance Reddick btw - or maybe there was some direct talk about Caesar on tv somewhere. Anyway I've been giving some thought to who or what might be remembered in the next couple of thousand years.

Firstly I'm not holding out much hope for there being a human race in four thousand and whatever. The only chance as far as I'm concerned comes with us leaving the planet and establishing ourselves elsewhere. Our eggs are literally in one basket right now. A basket full of cunts. We are so fucking vulnerable to any number of internal and external factors and until we're spread out across the galaxy or even further our chances of survival look shit.

That would make it more difficult for anyone or anything to be remembered, let alone myself. Note, I'm not sure whether I AM writing this or whether I am in the CHARACTER of the writer - that's because I'm being a pretentious cunt. Also, I can fall back on being in character when I talk about annihilating entire cities in due course.

So what would need to be done to ensure your name or my name 'rings out' in a couple of millennia. I would say you would have to do something really fucking positive or really fucking negative and the positive thing would have to be twice as good as the negative thing because that's how the human mind works.

As I'm writing this there's a show called The Leftovers on and a guy who appears to be a copper has taped a plastic bag over his head so that he can suffocate himself. Apparently not intended to cause any long term damage as he later on leaves the house looking pretty chipper - probably just some kind of stranglewank situation.

Anyway, let's say his wife had found him dead on the floor with his cock in his hand it would have taken quite a few cancer all-clears to outweigh it. Even if she herself got good news like that the death of her husband in a masturbatory fashion would always overshadow it, always be what was talked about.

Maybe if someone gave everyone the cancer all-clear they might get remembered for ever, or even eradicated aging or death. That kind of discovery or invention would certainly give you a chance at eternal fame. The problem is eternal infamy would seem the more likely way to go about things. You, or perhaps WE if you'd care to join me, would need to do something so fucked up it could never be forgotten. Something like this:

I'm discounting any vaguely modern works of music, film or literature, I mean GOT / Avengers Endgame or the last Kunt and the Gang album are all great but they may mean nothing in less than a hundred years let alone a couple of thousand. So it's back to infamy then, something so fucking outrageous it could never be forgotten, even with a malleable internet which will be as close to telling the truth as the record keeping in 1984.

What we're looking at then is death, a literal 911 x 100. Tens or hundreds of thousands gone. A tricky feat to pull off at the best of times, even harder now seeing as you can't just fob flight instructors off by saying you don't need landing lessons - they pick up on that kind of thing these days.

I had an idea for a thing a while back where someone wore a pressure suit, not dissimilar in looks to something Iron Man would wear, that had hundreds of detonators on it. The person wearing it could push any sensor on any part of his body and a building in London would blow up - this is set in London btw, where I lived at the time - not a random cockney holocaust.

I guess, although I should know as it's my idea, that some trip to Downing Street would occur and when the PM refuses to see the guy in the suit the first building goes up. Armed police and all sorts turn up but they soon realise that they can't touch him because if threatened he can take down any number of other buildings - worse still he's literally a dead man's switch. If taken out he will fall and dozens of detonators could be hit causing loads of explosions, well dozens you'd imagine.

Like everything else I'll probably get it going at some point. I know it was a revenge thing and I believe the following song seemed to go with it nicely when I first heard it, the video's great regardless and has a young Jesse Pinkman in it. As for the escort he hires, oh baby! I've chosen the censored version because the uncensored one doesn't have the storyline - there are shades of 'Låt den rätte komma in' which is a great film too. Enjoy!

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Happy Wednesday, I've just rewatched Endgame and it occurred to me what it might be like for the Hulk to jizz on Tilda Swinton's bald head, maybe a bit like pouring custard on a sticky toffee pudding


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