Cleveland Mark Blakemore, le dernier Übermensch

[Gragt 0]

C'est trop beau pour que je le garde tout seul...

Pour ceux qui ne savent pas, Cleveland Mark Blakemore, ou Cleve pour les intimes, est un ex-développeur de Sir-Tech, le studio canadien qui a réalisé des jeux comme Jagged Alliance 2 ou Wizardry 8, il apparaît d'ailleurs dans JA2 sous le nom de Calvin Barkmore. C'est aussi un surhomme avec des os en titane qui s'est exilé en Australie où il a consruit un bunker pour lui et sa famille en attendant l'apocalypse nucléaire qui ne devrait plus tarder, du moins selon lui. Le bonhomme est un puit de science en ce qui concerne les théories du complots, que ce soit l'utilisation de technologies alien par les pré-colombiens, le contrôle du monde par les banquiers juifs ou encore les golden retrievers comme produits d'une expérience génétique qui dépasse notre science actuelle.

Il poste fréquemment sur un forum que je fréquente et c'est carrément impossible de déterminer s'il s'agit du plus grand troll de tous les temps, dépassant même Voltaire, ou d'un allumé qui répand son venin avec sérieux. On a eu dernièrement une discussion drôle ave un type qui postait son chagrin d'amour et Cleve a décidé de parler de son histoire à lui, c'est tout simplement grandiose.

In 1991 I was working at an ice cream shop in New York for a while and I met this girl from the shop next door, very pretty and very nicely proportioned.

I was in the best shape of my life. I was training really hard three times a week and running on my days off with heavyhands and a weighted belt. My resting pulse was down to 36 bpm even when standing. I was about 220-230 lbs, somewhere in there.

One night in the ice cream shop, Roy Schneider (from JAWS) came in to get a cone and I served him behind the counter, he said to me when I handed him his change, "You know, kid, there's a lot of people in Hollywood who are not as good looking as you by half. You should really give my agent a call, he could put you on his books." The girl from next door was in the shop and she heard this and started giving me the eye once in a while after this every time she came over.

Now I had no girlfriends, no female friends and had not spoken directly to a female in like two years solid other than my mother when she came up on business and we had dinner. I often went out of my way to deflect any attention from a woman with a cold shoulder.

I had achieved this kind of stress-free calm in the midst of my severe, never ending depression and it was working a physical miracle in me. I knew any contact with humans outside of casual would get me stressed again and all discombobulated and throw off my physiology. Looking back, of course, I was right. My instincts were spot on in this regard. Despite my general sadness my body was growing muscle, my overall health was astounding and I didn't want to do anything to jinx it. I was sleeping ten hours a night and felt amazing all the time.

This girl kept coming into the shop for ice cream and giving me the eye. I just kept ignoring her. One day when I was talking about vitamins to the other people I worked with, she asked if I could go across the street with her and give her some advice on what supplements were best to take. I figured it was only polite and was not threatening to me.

So during my lunch break I went with her across the street. She created a lot of excuses to keep taking me by the elbow. The thrill was so powerful after years of not being touched by anyone I was shaking. Every time she did this it felt incredible. She bought the vitamins and she went back to work.

When I got back to the ice cream shop, the other girls who worked there told me that they should tell the girl from next door I was gay and was not interested. I asked them why they thought I was gay. They told me that they had always assumed I was gay because I was good looking and single and they never saw me talk to any women other than courtesy. I didn't know any of this - I told them I wasn't gay. They said that I must be crazy in that case. After that, the girls in the shop started giving me the eye a lot. They were no trouble to repulse, I didn't find any of them remotely attractive. I got to looking forward to seeing the girl next door when she came over. She always tried to speak to me but it was awkward - I had none of the skills essential to talk to women involving making up baloney and flirting. All I could talk about was ideas and information. I couldn't really "mingle," for the most part.

Nevertheless, she didn't give up. She kept trying. She was really beautiful and even somebody as alienated as I was would have a hard time not being attracted to her.

One night after the ice cream shop she waited outside until we closed. She asked me to walk her home. I did. At her steps she asked me if I wanted to come up for a coffee, but I was already getting scared and my instincts were telling me this girl was bad news, she was going to really hurt me first rate. I made up my mind to just be polite to her but even then I was not interested in sleeping with strange women just for the sexual pleasure. I told her this one night while I was walking her home. It was not that I was not sexual, it's that I wanted love or nothing.

This girl worked on me over the course of about a month. She was basically a wizard at telling me the exact things that almost nobody else would know to say to me. She told me that she had known from the first time she saw me that I was special like she was and that the two of us were lucky to have found one another in the world. She told me she didn't understand human beings and generally felt apart from them the way I did. This was all baloney, of course, but honestly this girl was pretty astounding at guessing the way to get inside my head. Nobody had ever quite done that before or since.

So one night, of course, I went up. It was incredible. The next morning I felt like I had been hauled up out of a well about a mile underground where I had lived my entire life and was seeing the sun for the first time. She told me she thought she loved me and I swore it was like that scene where the Grinch lifts the Christmas Sled.

Two days later, someone at the ice cream shop had told me she made a bet with another girl where she worked that she could get me into bed. She had said whatever she thought I wanted to hear and kept saying it. It worked. I'm not made of steel, after all. This other girl, who seemed to feel sorry for me, told me she had laughed at me after sleeping with me, saying I was good in bed but anybody could see I was a basket case as a human being.

The next day I had a return of one of my symptoms I had not experienced in maybe 8 years (?) .... catatonia. It is depression so powerful that you literally become paralytic and can no longer move, even when you decide you should. I lost the job at the ice cream shop when I didn't show nor did I answer the phone, I stopped paying rent on my apartment and I got an eviction notice. When I finally did start to move around again, I had violent bouts of vomiting and diarrhea. For the last time in my life, I wept and shook for long periods. I lost the ability to speak and I had to use feeble signals with my hands to gesture for things when I went out to the shops. I'd go to open my mouth but no sound would come out. It was like I could not work up the oxygen to push out my throat.

It took me about four months to recover my physiology and start to go to the gym again, but when I did I began to get better results than ever before. It was like the grief had actually cleansed me of my remaining humanity. Slowly I started to recover my calm again and my cortisol crept down until I could go a whole day without feeling stressed by anything. I got a decent job programming again where I spent most of my time alone with no other people around. I would generally heal up quite rapidly as long as I kept my zen-like calm together, no worry, no cortisol, no stress. A person like me could grow incredibly healthy under these conditions as long as I continued to avoid people.

Quand Trash lui explique le côté stupide de la chose, il répond:

Trash, had your parents not had too much to drink that night in the back of the bowling alley, you wouldn't be here to read it, so you should consider it fortunate you are present to share it.

I think my sad true story is way better than his sad true story and he could not possibly beat that in this lifetime, so he should stop bellyaching about this stupid bitch who acted pretty much as is expected nowadays. If she hadn't behaved like a carbon emission stain she'd be letting down the Western female tradition in 2009.

Il va même plus loin, donnant un indice sur le déclin de notre civilisation:

You know, I could make an interesting argument that in a declining culture, the females actually become uglier and coarser than the men, making the nuclear family unit virtually impossible since no one can be found willing to sacrifice their own short term gratification for the needs of children. In this sense, what has really been documented over this thread is the decline of the quality of the Western female to where she is absolutely, positively, a genetic dead-end in terms of biological fitness. Whatsoever feminism may have done to males it pales in comparison with the permanent loss of the mother or the wife for the majority of the population.

I say with great confidence such females are as hopelessly doomed as dodo birds and may come to their final end with even greater haste than that poor fowl did. Mayhaps the best they can hope for is to go out in one final spray of semen in a record-breaking gangbang marathon film. At least they can die simulating real life forms as if they could still procreate.

Et quand on lui demande s'il a jamais revu la fille de son histoire, expliquant que peut-être ce sont d'autres filles jalouses qui ont décidé d'inventer l'histoire du pari:

I had it confirmed. She was completely changed the next time I saw her. I actually saw her walking sort of forlornly along 72nd street the next year with a wiry, acne-scarred British man in what appeared to be some kind of adult diapers. He was speaking gruffly to her and she looked on the verge of tears. By that time I had morphed back into a stonefaced muscled colossus with people scrambling to cross the street as I approached. I saw her but did not acknowledge her with so much as a nod. My thousand mile foglight stare swept over her like she was not even there. A homeless brother on the other side of the street made the sign of the cross and kissed his rosary as I passed, the shadow of my pectorals temporarily bringing an eerie chill across the entire block. I don't know if she saw me or not. I continued walking past them with heavy, thudding Frankenstein like footsteps leaving microscopic cracks in the sidewalk.

18 years ago, no catatonia of the variety I sometimes got in my younger days ever again.

Tout simplement grandiose et ce n'est un échantillon du bonhomme.

[Gragt 0]

More lulz:

When I was younger I thought exactly the same way you do on a lot of subjects. I didn't know any better. I grew up, my mind increased in power until it was like the floating black monolith in 2001 and since then a lot of stuff is easy for me that used to be hard.

[nworr 0]

On dirait un mélange d'Eric Zemour et de Jean-Claude Van Damme.

[Gragt 0]

Oui mais lui au moins il a construit son abri anti-nucléaire. Ça lui permettra de survivre, lui et sa famille, pendant que le reste de l'humanité sera en train de dévorer des sandwiches au bébé avec un peu de sel. Sans parler des hordes de musulmans sodomites qui violeront tout ce qui bouge.

[stormbringer 0]

Boah, en suisse aussi quasi tous les immeubles ont un abri anti-atomique !

Donc y'aura Cleveland Mark Blakemore et sa famille, les musulmqns sodomites, les irradiés idiots et... les suisses ?!

/me se demande quel camp choisir...

[tbr 13]

Les radicaux de la libre Belgique ?