Ever since the very beginning of Chronicle.SU, I have secretly issued coded orders to the highest level of Anonymous leadership. Every single article I’ve written is filled with coded messages that only they will ever decode. Every image, fake ad and hidden detail of this site is loaded with directives which have been implemented perfectly.
Through my campaigns of hatred towards the peons of Anonymous I have mobilized and educated the masses. LulzSec? My brainchild. AntiSec? My invention. I created them by giving the larger Anonymous collective criticism which they immediately went out of the way to disprove. I mocked their pitiful public relations and out sprung LulzSec. I belittled them for their pitiful fear of government servers. AntiSec was born. All the while, I fed covert and specific instructions without having to use the horribly infiltrated IRC. Excuse me for my genius.
But now those within Anonymous who I have directly led are being investigated and may already be V&. I’ve received information from my mole in the FBI that one of them was bribed and outed me. The feds are closing in and even I will soon be V&. However, not all is lost. I have hacked Barack Obama’s e-mails and will soon be leaking world-shattering information. Here’s a teaser: Extra terrestrials are real, and they are going to force us to spark a nuclear war so they can inherit the planet. Of course that’s not true, but you know what to do Sabu, Topiary and Kayla. The die has been cast.
Oh, and one final mind-fuck for you all before you decide to ignore me: I’m th3j35t3r. I’ve been holding back this bombshell since I came up with the character last year. My purpose should be fairly clear if you understand my methods. By creating such an uncool conservative n00b of a hacker celebrity, I’ve ensured a more liberal agenda within Anonymous. Hacking is cool, the j35t3r is not, and now Anonymous is extremely socialist. Long live Che.
“Emotional cutting is women engaging in behavior that’s known as Facebook stalking when performed by men. The implicit connotative difference between emotional cutting and Facebook stalking is that men are dangerous and women are sad. Any unwanted attention from a man is tantamount to rape. Yet when women give men unwanted attention, they are only hurting themselves emotionally. After moping around the house all morning, a Facebook stalker logs into Facebook, erect penis in hand, searching only for sexually explicit photographs. The emotional cutter combs through seas of photographs endlessly searching for The One, and cries poignant tears of forlorn love as each one turns out to be just another guy.” ~ The Facebook guide to creepy behavior
[pullquote]When an emotional cutter and a Facebook stalker fell in love, the gallons of saline excretions nearly drowned them both.[/pullquote]
He Facebook stalked her for three years before he actually met her. He only managed to make love to her because she fucked anything that showed her the least amount of attention. Before they fucked, she wistfully stared into the Facebook stalker’s eyes as if he was The One, but he wasn’t. A few weeks after they had sex, she realized he was not Mr. Right after all, and ignored him for Dr. Who, on Netflix. That is when his Facebook stalking began to swing wildly out of control.
He went through reams of paper, printing off her sexiest photographs and routinely violating them with semen,urine and even feces. His favorite fap ended in a heavy blood-tinged load spewing all over an image of her wearing nothing but a bumper sticker over her tits that read “I ♥ Jesus.” He never got tired of ejaculating to that picture. Unfortunately, the file was corrupted from overuse and he was forced to re-draw his own version of it in MSPaint. The remake was better than the real thing.
One day, the Facebook stalker’s masturbation led to a blister on both his palm and anus. He craved rape, but he was overwhelmed with cowardice. Instead, he made such a hyperbolic expression of love and hate on her Facebook wall that she began to fear him. Obviously the usual trick of pretending he didn’t exist hadn’t worked. She unfriended him, but did not block him. He hated her and loved her equally. His rage fueled blister-forming fap sessions lasted until the small hours of the morning.
Despite her tough-girl exterior and penchant for servicing local glory holes, she was an emotional cutter. No one ever really cared about the way she felt, because she was seen by all her lovers only as a warm place for them to deposit gooey strands of semen before she went home and cried herself to sleep. ‘But am I more than that?’ thought she. The dramatic statement made by the Facebook stalker gnawed at her day and night, and she often visited his profile to cry. She loved him and feared him equally, like God.
They had many friends in common and often saw each other in public. They were generally too shy to do anything but cast furtive glances at each other, fearfully avoiding any intentional eye contact. On these lonely nights, the emotional cutter would go home and cry herself to sleep with her laptop in her arms and a small thermos in her ass. He would ejaculate all over his keyboard after typing her long-winded love letters that she could not bear to read.
One day after great consternation, the emotional cutter accepted the Facebook stalker as her Facebook friend again. Upon realizing this, he masturbated three times on a printout of his favorite photo now redrawn in MSPaint, uploaded the video to YouTube, and then masturbated again once it got several million views. The emotional cutter found the video and locked herself in her room, crying for days. She had never known such shame and sadness.
The next time they saw each other, they couldn’t avoid eye contact. She finally knew he was The One. A bloody tear streaked across her face as she fell into his arms, and he took her out to a secluded shed, removed one of her eyeballs and skull fucked her until her labored breathing slowed to a complete halt. He adorned her with his favorite g-string and ball gag, often visiting her corpse. The Facebook stalker’s love for her never faded even as her body decomposed. Semen and maggots streamed from her empty eye socket. The Facebook stalker had made sure she was in death as she was in life, beautiful and brilliant beyond compare.
Casa Grande, Ariz.– The predominantly white inhabitants of suburban Casa Grande paraded through the streets Friday celebrating the announcement of the closing of all the Borders in the country.
Shortly before the announcement, leader of the White Brotherhood Southern Arizona Chapter Harold Smith heard rumors of Borders closing. Harold gathered his people together in a Border’s bookstore parking lot at the mall – because it is a good place to meet, he said, and they have plenty of parking today for some reason.
Harold stood on the tailgate of his pickup truck in front of a jubilant crowd at their Patriot Rally and declared, “We will finally be free from the sub-human scum a the earth – who push our health care costs higher. I mean, shit. I might not go to the dentist, but bitch, these cheeseburgers ain’t doin’ my heart no favors!” The crowd laughed and applauded.
“He’s too much!” guffawed Stevie Hargrove, 40, a toothless overalls-clad spot-welder from Tucson. Stevie clapped at every opportunity, beaming a gummy smile up to his leader, squinting through matted, sweaty hair into Harold’s silhouette against the sun.
Harold continued. “And I ain’t got no insurance because Obama wanted to force me to get it and how d’you think he’s gonna pay for that? That Moslem was gon’ tax the wealthy to pay for it, that’s how; so I don’t even fucken want it!” The crowd again erupted into a frenzy of whistles and cheers just as a vein burst in Harold’s forehead, spraying crimson hate into the yawning mouths and down the throats of onlooking slack-jawed hillbillies whose thirst for identity only grew drier under the bottomless black ocean of beer-soaked convictions swirling unseen in Harold’s cold, beady eyes. A rainbow formed under the blood mist spewing forth from the man’s skull, and at the end of it sat a Confederate flag, perched in the grass, with a little sticker on its miniature flagpole that read, “Made in China.”
“And that brown uncivilized scum who keeps minimum wages artificially high by taking low pay for jobs that was originally intended for everyday Americans like me and Bo! Jobs like mopping up coffee shops, unloadin’ book trucks and washing the walls inside a the killhouses.”
At that, Smith’s crowd of white nationalists almost did not hear the news update over the ruckus of their own hate-filled fervor, as some frothed at the mouth and fell to their knees, speaking in tongues. But for those who could read, the closed captioning on the JumboTron News Report said everything [if it said anything].
A fictitious TV news program that actually broadcasts real news reported:
Because of mismanagement and glaring lack of foresight, Borders Bookstores all across America are shutting down permanently. Infamous for carrying only mainstream authors, and notorious for grossly overestimating the number of orange people willing to read Snooki’s biography – Border’s Inc. lowered literary standards faster than anyone could possibly write a book about it. Yet, here you are celebrating your racism underneath a giant flat-screen TV. Don’t act like you’re upset. Nothing changed. You don’t even read.
Dumbfounded mouth-breathers all across America stood solemnly, Budweiser in hand, making not a sound. For two minutes they stood, reflecting on their own hatred; but hatred of what, exactly, became unclear. A small child clutching a teddy bear to her chest tugged at her mother’s dress. “Mummy? You mean they ain’t relocatin’ dem filtty wetbacks?” But her mother was too grief-stricken to answer.
The only thing these rednecks hate more than non-whites is reading books.
Quietly they to stood until local pig farmer Jerry Pritchard, 48, broke the silence.
“Well,” Jerry started. “I hate books, too. I mean, shit. I like the Bible! Hell, who doesn’t. But you guys know what I mean. I mean, fucken … books, man.” Jerry’s detestation was met with groans of agreement, though many people were still visibly confused by the notion of a store specializing in the sale of bound paper.
Jerry licked his lips, picked up his courage and spoke again. “You guys still wanna…” Jerry clasped his hands together behind his back and toed a boot in a wide arc in the sand. “…Still wanna drag somebody behind my truck?”
The crowd again frothed and wriggled through the congregation of pickup trucks toward Jerry’s truck, chanting U-S-A and someone came up with “George Snorwell” which was repeated several times from within the group. Only the intellectual rednecks who got the reference laughed. The others just went along with it.
“But before we go,” Jerry continued, “I want to stop by Borders’ clearance sale. Larry th’Cable Guy’s thing is 40% off!”
Casa Grande, Ariz.– The predominantly white inhabitants of suburban Casa Grande paraded through the streets Friday celebrating the announcement of the closing of all the Borders in the country.
