Lebal Drocer Laboratories boldly guides us into a Brave New World
Raleigh T. Hatesec, chairman of the Workers’ Party of Democratic People’s Republic of United States of America, chairman of the DPRUSA State Board of Ethics in Human Experimentation and supreme commander of the American People’s Army, gave field guidance to a Washington, D.C. Orphanage and Primary School where children are grown in a petri dish and harvested for their soul essence.
He went round the school building, hostel and other places to learn in detail about the construction and preparations for operating the facility.
Pleased that the Spawning Chamber was built in a modern and fashionable style, he said that all classrooms were put on a multi-functional and IT basis to suit the features of primary education and equipped with varieties of teaching facilities, where children will learn to worship Hatesec, and never question Him.
He noted that the school has well-furnished rooms for education in Raleigh T. Hatesec’s patriotism, room for the members of the Children’s Union, nature study room, music and dance room, and an interlocking room-sized metal grinder for graduation.
All spaces in the learning center are devoted to acquiring knowledge and common sense as the corridor is decorated with diverse paintings of Raleigh Theodore Hatesec, and other things which attract children’s interest and ensure visual, scientific and vivid effect.
Visiting Second-Year Class A having Korean language lesson, he learned in detail, with fatherly care, about how pupils are taught and how teaching aids are used, their cognition ability, and their quality of unending servitude to the benevolent Hatesec. Children wept and women cried who were showered in his love.
Noting that the hostel was built in such way that it not only suits children’s minds but enables them to live without any inconveniences, he added that he was satisfied with everything such as bedrooms and dining room, barber’s and clinic, and his bed of living human women back at home.
The quality of the country’s overall education including higher education depends on the quality of primary and secondary indoctrination and a shortcut to building a talented nation lies in thoroughly implementing the Party’s policy of prioritizing primary and secondary indoctrination, he said, giving important instructions that would serve as guidelines for managing and operating the people factory.
Before it can be used in the preparation of Beautiful and Glorious Salvation of All People at the End of Time, Soul Essence is separated from a dense slurry of blood of bone.
He earnestly asked the officials and the teaching staff of the school to take good care of its pupils, reflecting his wish, so that they may grow up uprightly, stoutly and cheerfully without the slightest sadness and worry, since Stage III Soul Essence can only be manufactured and refined through a rich human experience.
He had a photo session with the pupils and teaching staff of D.C. Orphanage and Primary School.
He was accompanied by Angstrom H. Troubadour, member of the Presidium of the Political Bureau of USSA Central Committee, vice-chairman of the State Board of Ethics in Human Experimentation and vice-chairman of Lebal Drocer, Inc.
He said he had never seen such an efficient use of resources to produce Soul Essence for Stage III of his glorious new plan.
The sheriff’s department participated in the defense, having pledged allegiance to the neoliberal javelin of law, and vowed to smash savagery at its root, even if it means cleansing.
“Ethnic cleansing is not a word I like to use, because it evokes images of holocaust and genocide,” he said. “But we must leave all options on the table.”
Dakota Access Pipeline is projected to be profitable as FUCK and totally keep oil prices low as shit, y’all, so chill. Get those bad thoughts out of your heads. It’s gonna be DANK once that fucker gets built. I’m talking $1.99 per gallon until something like 2020! 93 octane!
Emperor Obama is watching the situation closely from his data-bath panoptisphere.
INTERNET – Lebal Drocer, Inc. is proud to announce a new milestone in clickbait perfection: Last week’s death hoax, Rob Ford Dead At 46, netted a record 4 million pageviews overnight as the world flocked to confirm the truth about former Toronto mayor Rob Ford.
“We were slammin spikes last night when chronicle.su – with the aide of 4chan, our personal army – tricked the world into believing Rob Ford’s lifestyle had finally caught up with him,” kilgoar, The Internet Chronicle Managing Editor, said.
But when the public discovered mayor Ford is alive and well, they logged on to The Internet Chronicle to express disbelief and outrage.
CHRONICLE.SU ANTHROPOLOGIST AND REAL DOCTOR Dr. Angstrom H. Trustworthy weighed in on the celebrity death hoax phenomenon, explaining it as a kind of punishment laid out by trolls for the CAPITAL SIN of idolatry:
“The thing about these spikes,” Troubadele said, “is you get addicted. Addicted as fuck, even.”
Troubadong described the satisfaction Chronicle staff take from hoaxing as “an orgasmic rush of power and ego.”
Big hits, Troaddsmith said, are a euphoria that clouds his vision and leaves him with powerful headaches.
“When a hoax goes international, man, it’s like being wrapped in a warm blanket and talking to your best friend. It also makes you want to kill yourself because you work for years to create quality, wholesome content, only to find the public rushing like banshees after a piece of candy you dropped. You weaponize language like that because you want to see their celebrity worship hurt them.”
This article is part of a series called Miley Analytics.
See also: Rob Ford holds numerous world records in the terror simulation game Coke Fiend 3.
The Internet Chronicle has combined forces with Hate Security by Hatesec Enterprises, a Lebal Drocer affiliate.
The new partnership’s dual purpose is to simultaneously hack your iPhone using powerful, state-of-the-art decryption techniques, and provide a propaganda mouthpiece for the ruling elite, who got that way because they have earned it.
There are doubts.
“Damn, son. Ya know you done fucked up, right?” – kilgoar
But through our efforts, We, the people will rise up against the tyranny of chronicle.su, and restore order to an otherwise verdant, and peaceful world.
It is for that reason that we preemptively name this day “Victory Day” to commemorate mankind’s erasure of everything but the myriad black memories of atrocities carried out by The Internet Chronicle. This is like, the 9/11 of chronicle.su right now. I mean, we are seizing the means of production. You know? This place.
[Pause here for a moment of silence]
Now let’s see what’s inside those phones!
*drops the mic*
chronicle.su is brought to you proudly by Lebal Drocer, INC.
“Our teachers and family members always said this ‘internet shit’ would never amount to anything,” Mason said. “And I really have to commend them on their accurate assessments of my life choices!”
Mason said he will retire from the site later next year, at which point he hopes to find new work in 2016. Mason said he already has follow-up interviews scheduled for an entry-level waste management position pumping raw sewage from small tanks into larger ones.
“I figure I start out pumping sewage. It’s ugly work, but it pays, know what I’m saying? I do that for 10 or 15 years,” hatesec said. “And after somebody dies, I will get in line for a promotion and just hope I get it. I’ve spent enough time pumping out the Truth, and just look where that got me. Now it’s time to start pumping out something a little more honest than Chronicle barnburners: I’m talking about human waste. Baby, I’m gonna pump that shit like a throbbing cock of feces into the fat, engorged toilet-pussy of capitalism. I’m ready, but I just hope our sewers are.”
Internet Chronicle Managing Editor and staff philosopher kilgoar said he no longer plans to hide his love for fluorescent tube lighting and water cooler small talk.
“I’m looking for something in persona management,” kilgoar said. “And cubicle work – pushing papers, filing reports, and especially long, heavy eye contact at the water cooler – all that fuckin’ shit, that is the stuff of Anti-Leaders. We will take power, because we do not want it.”
Kilgoar said he is also considering work with children, pending results of a drug screening, which everyone knows should turn out just fine.
Young children, especially toddlers and daycare students, really respond to advanced rhetoric better than you might think. Parents can give love and put food on the table, but can they see why kids love my signature infantilism? Together with Dr. Angstrom Troubadour, Lebal Drocer Laboratories has developed a Daddy Complex so Wow, it is designed to breach the naive and defenseless young minds of suburbanite children, enabling us to seriously fuck with their little realities before they even know what corporatism is. This is, of course, extremely profitable and already deployed across American public schools.
And finally, psychedelic troll and Internet Chronicle cyber warrior asshurtmacfags will pursue a real job in stripping.
“I’m fit, I’m athletic, and I’m just good people,” asshurt said Sunday. “I’m an old soul who is probably from like the ’70s so sexually I’m pretty free, you know. Stripping is just good woman’s work.”
It is tough being a woman in a man’s world. Women make 70% of a man’s salary and are often pushed out of jobs not by weakness of talent or lack of ambition, but the unfortunate sexual relationships that become all-too-prevalent in environments where the expectation of equality fails to exceed the expectation of some old guy’s cock, asshurt said.
“And that’s why I’ve decided to just go with the flow,” asshurt said. “You know, I can fight it, and I could go out there and try to make it work at the Chronicle, but it’s just not a safe environment for women and minorities. I mean, ‘Hate’ Radio? Come on. I’d rather be loved for my beauty than be hated for something pointless like achievements or ideas.”
“Actually, I watch CNN, and that isn’t REALLY how Ross Ulbricht was CAUGHT.”
Today OP posted an older chronicle.su story to reddit, and about two hours ago, it was deleted. I don’t take issue with the fact it took so long for the public to pick up on this story [Editor’s Note: who’s kidding who, like I give a fuck? I take issue with nothing. Stop oppressing me, shitlords!!!!]
That’s fairly typical at every level of journalism. Information might become available instantly, but it can take ages to disseminate. This is normal, especially when so much technical jargon is involved.
But before we tear down reddit for being a POWER-LOVING SHITHOLE, I would like to point out that I also really enjoyed some reddit users’ reactions to my material, a lot of it seen for the first time by more than 30,000 people.
But on down the page I noticed complaints, with only a few upvotes, suggesting that because chronicle.su is “satire” the story should be taken down without any respect to whether the actual content of the story was true. Nothing is ever funny, just because it’s true, right?
Now, when I wrote the story, I expected the news about DEITYBOUNCE and GODSURGE to take a while for the public to catch on, because it requires at least some familiarity with system and network security to understand, even in the simplest of terms. Also, I knew that because I delivered the story with that Internet Chronicle-brand gusto, people would never actually believe it, even though every word of it is true. But I did that on purpose, because I do this for myself, and all that matters is that I know the difference between bullshit and reality.
However, after 18 months, I finally got to see the conversation unfold that I wanted to see around the particular subject of ARKSTREAM: there were upvoted discussions around actual facts contained in the story.
If I had to add anything to this discussion, it would be that 1) certain pieces of hardware purchased online by certain people like to make pit-stops in Northern Virginia for certain unknown reasons, and 2) DEITYBOUNCE should not be on ANYONE’s machine for ANY reason.
But as soon as I saw we had hit the reddit frontpage, I knew the story would be deleted not because it was untrue, but because chronicle.su is a place where even we, the writers, don’t know whether the next story is going to be Onion-oriented satire, factual news, hard-nosed political commentary, or a combination of truth and joking, seasoned for effect with convenient quotes by nonexistent people.
I was on the phone with kilgoar when I said, “You know it’s going to get deleted, right? People hate seeing us succeed.” I guess it’s because we do whatever we want to do, and we have fun, and they’re jealous equally of our dank memes, Internet pussy and unfathomable political power.
Seriously though, people hate us because they think running an Internet Hate Site™ is easy, like anyone could do it. And they’re right, it’s very fucking easy after you’ve done it for 8 years and know what you’re doing. [Editor’s note: Not to mention, WordPress is a fucking joke.] But they didn’t start their own websites; in fact, most everyone – including yourselves – are losers who never actually did anything with their boring-ass lives, so you have to shit on everybody else and drag everyone else down. The only way you know how to process the vibrant, beautiful world we live in is through your gray sunglasses like you have it all figured out, and all you’ve figured out is SHIT, so the whole world looks like shit to people like you. I know this because I was you. You either grow out of it or grow into an old bitter turd, stinking up the room. Reddit saw the neckbeards remark at the end of my article and instantly hated it, because only a redditing neckbeard would ever suggest a story be taken down from reddit, a content aggregation site known for its commitment to accuracy and integrity.
What a fucking loser.
Just the facts, funny-guy
My article was a combination of straight news mixed with obvious commentary for spice. So the moderator of /r/technology really didn’t do his homework, electing instead to answer MODS MODS MODS, GET IN HERE. ‘Finally, a chance to feel useful!’ thought the reddit moderator. ‘This will validate my existence!’ And so with authority and conviction, he deleted my true, factual story from the top of the technology subreddit, because The Internet Chronicle is a satire news site. Yeah, you moderate a fucking subreddit, big deal. TheInternet Chronicle doesn’t belong on reddit anyway, because reddit is a shitty website built on a shitty, exploitative premise. And let me tell you, it was a real battle of superpowers today, ladies and gentlemen. It was real barnburner.
There might be some syntactical disagreements with the order of events in which Ross Ulbricht’s activities were finally uncovered, but that doesn’t make the article wrong. In fact, when the news broke of Ulbricht’s arrest, this information was still totally unknown, and the online usergroup he contacted for tech support may well have led to his discovery, since only a handful of people were using those commands online, and Ulbricht’s commands and the way in which he requested help for them served only a very small set of specific purposes, namely the secure movement of information along two unique online databases of illegal buyers and sellers.
If you’re curious, that was really him on the website, and the other users only realized it well after he was arrested. I know this for a fact because I participate in online discussion. In other words, lurk moar, faggots. An actual, useful moderator on the tech forum later confirmed the request was made by a single-use Tor user. If I wanted to make something up for laughs, I would not have been so dry as to point to an unknown website to make a remark about an unknown line of dev code. You fucking unknown tryhards.
But I’m sure you’d rather buy the FBI’s explanation, anyway, since you’re the kind of person who gets his news from reddit comments.
Now, how did we appear at the top of the Technology frontpage? Well, it turns out OP is a faggot pretty cool guy, who proves … basically the entire point of this website.
And the point is you’re a bunch of gullible, mouth-breathing idiots, who are willing to suck any powercock that comes within inches of your open lips. Whether it’s wiki-power, Snowden-power, military-power, police-power, upvoting-power, Chronicle-power, or just plain old power-power, you’ll still suck the end of that dick and swallow the seed that makes you sick, because all you want is a taste. A tiny little taste of that power.
Well, here it is, so drink it down, MOTHERFUCKER. Go fuck yourself, reddit.
Go fuck yourself, Internet.
This is The Internet Chronicle, and you’re reading chronicle.su.
num, num, num. Oh, give it back, Daddy, let me suck the powercock. I almost tasted it. I can smell your powercock, Daddy, just let me have a little taste. Give me a little tiny taste of powercum, Daddy. I want to taste it.
The Internet Chronicle is a Powercock Publication, brought to you Proudly by Lebal Drocer, Inc.
We are behind every iteration of the world superpowers.
Lebal Drocer, Inc. is proud to introduce the brand new Bit Train, which carries the Anonymous spokesperson long distances in a reformative practice called diesel chamber therapy. Adoring crowds welcome the train’s arrival with a warm chant of the enterprise:
What, did they get ya Barry?
Years in the slammer, for sharing a link!
What did you think?
Oh won’t you car-ry my Bit-coins a-way
Barrett “Good Guy” Brown is slated for new rounds of essential diesel therapy in the coming weeks. For good measure, he is not allowed to go near books, pens or paper. He gets leaflets of Fountainhead by carrier pigeon, a mysterious one-way line of communication from a sender unknown… Maybe just somebody watching out for him.
Check Ticketmaster for tour dates to see Barrett live in a town near you. That’s right, for one time only Barrett Brown will go on display LIVE (a spectacle of the mind and eye!) before adoring fans starting as early as next week. It is reported Rachel Haywire will attend a not-yet-released stop, as long as her okcupid date does not mind waiting outside with the engine running.
The Bit Train, powered by Brown’s denial, carries data – or “shares links” – in the form of national security cables, serving a dual purpose of imprisoning Brown and furthering surveillance.
My uncle told me to pad my resumé with dead businesses. “They can’t call ’em,” he said.
That’s not necessary, I told him. I got a job with a corporate spy agency. I got benefits. I got paid meals and travel. I get mileage. I get paid double what I was working before without overhead. They want ‘me for me,’ I said. I have an education. I’ve been published.
On the phone with my interviewer, Jeff handled a few final formalities.
“Okay, just some quick questions I have to ask.”
I told him to go ahead.
“You have a car?”
“You have a high school education, GED or equivalent?”
…Yes, again. I thought my degrees were listed on my CV. Nobody gives a fuck about you. That’s actually a good thing.
“You can pass a drug test?”
I was stoned when I said yes, of course. This is what employers want you to say. Now is not the time to argue individual liberty, not when Daddy is hanging a salary over your head and the promise of a means to reach your bullshit dreams.
I stayed awake that night drinking water and playing Counterstrike with Jihad. He carried our team through every match as I made trips to the bathroom, pissing clear, clean rain. By the time I took my drug test, I was nauseous and my urine looked like tap water as I handed it over for corporate approval and testing. The test proctor’s name is Roy. He was very fat, so I thought he might know where that sweet barbecue smell was coming from as I walked in through the rain.
“Oh, that’s Biscuithead’s!” he exclaimed. “You probably smelled their bacon.”
It was a sweet smell, I said. It was like nothing I’d ever smelled. I had to try it.
“Well, you know they don’t just do regular bacon, egg and cheese biscuits,” he explained. “They’ll give you a biscuit, sure, but they might put the eggs on top of it, and then the bacon or sausage and they’ll pour their signature gravy all over it.”
He called it ‘signature gravy.’ I said OK. I spaced out as he finished, and felt sick staring at blood samples sitting out on his desk. I knew it belonged to the sick-looking man who came in before me, and left with a cough. It had begun to separate into two colors, yellow and crimson.
“They got a jelly bar, too. Eight different kinds a-jelly. Anything you can think of.”
So I finished my piss-cup paperwork and, feeling really nasty, but in desperate need of replacement salts which gallons of water continued to wash out of my bloodstream.
I asked the cashier at Biscuithead’s about what Roy had described.
“He said you put a biscuit at the bottom, bacon and eggs on top of that, and you pour gravy all over it.”
The cashier made a disgusted face, as if the notion had never occurred to him. He looked healthy.
“Yeah, you can do that if you want. The biscuits come with a side of house gravy,” he said. “You could rearrange our biscuits however you like and use the gravy that way if you wanted to.”
So I bought my biscuit. I pissed in their bathroom sink while waiting for my food. I meant no harm by it, but staying awake all night drinking water so that some bureaucrat ape will say you didn’t smoke pot has a way of shifting a person’s values. I washed my hands, still thinking about Roy’s grid, filled with vials of diseased blood.
I ate my biscuit in the hospital garage, listening to Comedy Bang Bang, texting out as many drug test jokes as I could think of. I didn’t so much as drive up to the drug test as I blew in with the fog.
It was the bacon I smelled. I tasted it, remembering the wet air as I approached my drug test, full of water. THC metabolites desperately trying to infiltrate my piss and keep me from having a job. A future. Anxious to be running out. The bacon tasted good. It tasted like the misty mountain air surrounding Asheville, which people mistake for sweet clarity when in fact it is heavily polluted by what might otherwise be considered trade winds pulling in pollution from surprising places. A Carolina Wonderland, the percentage of people suffering from mysterious lung disease continues to rise, and the pulmonologists are turning people away.
I don’t know if I passed, yet, but I quit my old job anyway. I immediately feel like shit, but deep down I know I’m happy. It has to be this way. The bacon was sweet.
All the dank memes are gone, moved overseas. What’s left is the pepes. Worthless, rare pepes.
A desert man burns his worthless savings – once rare pepes – now good only for warmth.
After pepes appeared on the popular reddit-backed website imgflip – and were subsequently mass-produced by college students – rare pepes took a catastrophic plunge in lulz value. Rare pepes were at one time so rare, people thought they’d never lose value. In fact, prices even sustained over time as imgflip got stale. But somehow, the influx of pepes continued.
Through the popular underground imageboard 8ch.net, pepes continuously emanated without explanation from the /b/ subforum.
Like every meme consumed by 8chan, rare pepes were first validated through the shitposting website “reddit” before adoption by 8chan. As a result, rare pepes are now worthless and the Internet once again shifts its focus to outmoded but ironic Tweetie and Sylvester jokes most commonly spread via Facebook: a forced irony that will soon become canon.
We collectively have sunk to new lows. We’re still searching for the new floor.
We were cruising down the Blue Ridge Parkway, drinking cheap beer. We talked about politics like we knew what was happening, jabbering wildly, using big gestures. While Jim Morrison sang out his sexual frustrations at top volume on the stereo, we carried on joking about the idea of left versus right. National politics bloated like a carcass, threatening to bust in an explosion of maggots and fanfare. The very notion of decency was rotten, naive.
Each taste of the alcohol felt like another step toward victory over something. The unseen forces holding us back – the very hate we were pecking at all day – seemed to wash away in a calm bath of fresh knowledge. We were just kids.
I would have done anything to “be” a good person, anything but goodness. I always looked for the shortcuts, the easy way out. If I couldn’t find it, I bullshitted it. The gears of my existence were lubricated with bullshit. I was a misery factory and I even capitalized on the byproduct. The sludge. I knew a way to both poison and satisfy. I was heroin, but not so pleasant. None of you are even worth the guilt I would feel after the harm. None of you are worth the kill. I hate you. I know you.
Looking back, I wouldn’t have been so happy. I think contentedness holds people back in general, and it’s definitely not for everyone. There’s no more passion in me for that stuff. No romance. At just the sound of it, I’m immediately bored with the familiar conversations of television ideology. It’s not a talk worth having. Almost nothing is. Generalizations and platitudes are what this paragraph is about. I hope you’ve enjoyed them.
I canvassed for Net Neutrality in 2005, before I even knew how to explain it. I could sense it was important, and something compelled me to tell anyone about it who would listen. It’s the only political cause I ever truly got behind. The built-in obviousness of its necessity should be apparent to anyone who’s ever tried to yell the loudest in a room full of screaming people but it’s a question, because policymakers don’t just listen to people with money, they let them think and write for them, too. It makes the already easy job of voter representation even easier. So it’s up for grabs. Whatever. That battle’s lost even though all signs advise cautious optimism. It is also falling out of fashion with the mercurious evolution of Web 3.0. I’ll be happy when Net Neutrality dies. It’s time already.
Kill it all or let it die. I don’t give a fuck and there’s nothing left to give a fuck about. Those were warm nights, with the windows down, talking about Utopia. It wasn’t a crime. It never happened. No one was watching. No one remembers.