One Hundred Poems
One Hundred Poems, Volume V. Copyright © 2016 Tuomas Vainio.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without a written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. Please contact the author at [email protected]
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Published by Tuomas Vainio at Shakespir
Shakespir Edition, License Notes
Thank you for downloading this ebook. This book remains the copyrighted property of
the author, and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial
purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own
copy from their favourite authorized retailer. Thank you for your support.
Discover other titles by Tuomas Vainio:
Heart of Ceres (Science Fiction)
One Hundred Poems Vol I-IV (Poetry)
Skull of Oghren (Fantasy)
Table of contents
One Million Gamers Strong
Because video game censorship is wrong,
The goal is to get one million gamers strong,
In defence of those bikini clad butt cheeks,
Which gives modern puritans their creeps,
Makes them shout out: muh soggy knees,
For they remain impossible to appease,
So lets get one million gamers strong,
To show censored games are wrong,
Against the nature of this medium,
For fun is butchered into tedium,
Into another pound of grey goo,
It does not have to be our stew.
Fallout 4 – Road Goggles – Again
I finally got a pair,
That I now proudly wear,
And the wait was worth it: I swear!
But the sad fact is: I have passed level eighty-six,
And still far more to go to fill my bag of tricks,
So radiant quest are my source of conflicts-
Hence I am sent to exterminate settlements,
Under the guise of ghoulish pestilence,
Something of great unpleasantness.
Settlement population is at zero,
But alas road goggles on a hero…
Four Lines Today
And another start,
Poems as short as fart,
Flying off just like a dart,
But got to say; nothing smart.
Local News on Global Warning
It appears that nations of the world approach resolution,
When it comes to greenhouse gas related pollution,
Although once more what we lack is execution,
Thus as the time passes we face dissolution,
So nothing truly new on that ‘revolution.’
But they did mention a humiliation of climate sceptics,
As Greenpeace ordered studies in favour of sceptics,
Proving how money alone bends backs and ethics,
Ignoring the two way street of money and ethics,
Perhaps they have not talked to enough cynics.
And all that preaching about saving this world is retarded,
Not to mention how easily it is forgotten and discarded,
If daily survival leaves the future but a distant target,
Thus if this global warming is to be ever thwarted,
Energy self-sufficiency should not be discarded.
But the discussion lies in percentages and unspecified goals,
With those same questions repeating in the public polls,
Just stuck trying to fix those same age old potholes,
While energy self-sufficiency is a specific goal,
Thermal, wave, solar, wind; all play roles.
But nothing new on the West front,
While energy self-sufficiency remains affront,
We but shun the innovations and the technological forefront.
>Out of the three levels of the Kardashev scale,
>We haven’t even begun to reach the first.
Royalty: They keep it in the family
The rumour is;
A prince dates his sister in law,
As close to incest you can get (within confines of the law).
But it makes me wonder:
Is it a result of royal inbreeding,
Combination of genes otherwise receding,
Because cousins kept on marrying and breeding?
Before it was used to keep wealth in the family,
And to produce a legal hair to the country,
So a single name runs in the memory,
To give crown some security.
But I guess some are relieved to hear it,
Even on these troubled times; royalty still fucks family!
And although they appear to seek genetic dilution,
I would still prefer the French solution,
In case they won’t step down.
Those Governmental Peeping Toms
You should fear those scary terrorists,
And once you do to the point you need a therapist,
You will have one of those ‘cyber probes’ shoved up your butt,
Therefore in some government office: someone wanks to all that collected smut.
So just think of that British prime minister who once fucked a dead pig’s head,
And you will understand why they want it more than fresh bread,
Imagine ability to blackmail or discredit any individual,
For what is shameful: isn’t always criminal.
Hence these attempts to remove all privacy,
Because everyone has their own share of dirty laundry,
And should anyone face a mere remainder that someone knows,
Could they stand up and shout louder: overcome their set of dirty clothes?
Oh how stars and bars longs to follow bad examples of hammer and sickle,
How forgotten are the lessons of systems at best described: fickle,
But I suppose that will never stop these peeping Toms,
For they long to wank at your dads and moms.
It shall capture kids’ hearts,
But to me it was just reused parts,
A movie I had already seen long ago,
I left the theatre without feeling aglow,
And it had moments I simply loved,
But as whole it still felt shoved,
Stumped and even dull,
I do not want to say,
The reason behind the lack of sway,
For my finger can only point to the role of Rey,
A role that constantly outdoes to a point of downplay,
Hence; I am left without a reason to like the character of Rey.
I hope Rey finds at least some character in the sequel,
Because otherwise “teenage Anakin” is Rey’s equal.
Have a drink,
As I give a wink,
Do sip and let it sink,
And then perhaps think,
Before you must blink,
Poison in your drink,
It wasn’t any ink,
So you blink.
A blocklist of 1,32 million users
More than million followers in one blocklist is someone’s plan,
Probably this effort will fall short before it has even began,
But it shows the extent of our modern online bigotry,
Of those who shun people who think differently,
Who cannot tolerate any dissenting opinions,
For they might start loosing more minions.
All in all: they wish to see the world shut out,
To create a space where brain farts clout,
Where their ideology replaces doubt,
And light of wisdom is blown out.
Please imagine millions blocked for following a wrong individual,
An act that is best described as malicious as it is despicable,
Truly it is nothing more but a modern online anathema,
By those who see internet as their personal enema,
Hence incapable of handing slightest protest,
For what they have publicly expressed.
It would be easy to wish them speed,
Encourage to finish their deed,
Meet their safe space need,
But I cannot concede.
This Week in Stupid, by One Sargon of Akkad
A series you should be able to find on YouTube,
Something perhaps everyone most definitely should,
For when it is the culture of stupidity; we tend to be rube,
Therefore clueless to actions and products of mere falsehood.
And while weekly entries are picked by one fat dude,
They are recommended by his current viewership,
Hence what is the reason to remain a prude,
When you could watch almost any clip.
This is my nod to work he has done,
Should it ever drop: my verbal brutality shall weight more than a tonne,
And hit harder than a speeding car.
>The dude is a fat shitlord so it might still just bounce off,
> Shut up, compliments are hard!
Trump: Creation of the Regressive Left
Who is to blame for the probable president Trump?
I think the fault lies entirely on the so called progressive left,
Whose dominance over political discourse has left us bereft,
With mountain of problems without a single solution in sight,
Because they simply shout ‘-ist’ even when they are not right,
Thus problems along with their answers become but muddled,
And more problems arise because situation appears befuddled,
Hence entire nations in the west suffer from political stagnation,
Therefore no one dares to address the problems of their own nation,
Because no one can ever say a word without someone taking offence,
And politics have become focused on topics of inconsequential nonsense.
Yet we should not forget how these shouts of ‘-ist’,
Only work so long as someone gives a shit,
Trump diverts focus with a single line,
Audience laughs and it is all fine.
> ‘Only Rosy O’Donnell.’
Not to mention that he stands without a character to assassinate,
The first episode of the Apprentice made him a target of public hate.
Hence the regressive left can stomp their feet all they want,
As Trump’s very probable presidency continues to taunt,
But his leg in race is only thanks to the regressive left,
Granted by people who thought they knew it best.
Salt and Steam (For a fantasy novel)
It takes a baker’s dozen of years,
Before all around the steam sears,
Seen high above and all around,
The heat of dragons underground,
Slain but their bones linger hot,
Producing salt the city has sought,
Later shipped and sent far across,
For magic runes and brown sauce,
Salt and steam our city breathes,
Others long with hearts of thieves.
Too warm for December
It is too warm for December,
Not what I will long and remember,
For the ground ever lingers muddy wet,
And these rainy days are best you can get,
Thus I long for frozen blankets of snow,
But when they come; no one knows,
It is too warm for December,
Warmest I remember.
How to handle those terrible online public reactions
The only way to appease everyone,
Is to be noticed by absolutely no one.
Public attention follows public stage,
It won’t change no matter how you rage.
The public response might appear out of the world,
But still not a valid reason for you to become curled.
Just skim through the responses to get the general gist,
And you can offer your replies even in the form of a list.
Volume and quality of comment does not ever make harassment,
But I suppose you can cry that: if your argument simply lies absent.
Therefore, the only real answer to those terrible online public reactions,
Is a thicker skin along with intelligent arguments, rather than mere passion.
Back Working For Royal Society
A headline in an article I couldn’t read,
But still a little bit of good news,
How they tried to lop off a man’s head,
Not to forget the months of abuse.
But Tim Hunt appears to be reinstated,
Even if it stands six months belated.
>So all is well,
>No harm was done?
His reputation still remains tarnished,
And search results keep it varnished.
Yet it still a little bit of good news.
On The Husbands of River Song
River Song is Moffat’s wet dream,
But the special did much to redeem,
Therefore, I hope it could be left at that,
Before yet another episode simply falls flat.
As for spoilers…
If River Song reappears,
Then Moffat will screw it up,
It will not be faced with any cheers,
There is just too much luggage stored up.
As for spoilers…
Just let it end with that night,
Because 24 years is something right,
Something good for the battered old rug,
That calls it the Doctor with a face too smug.
As for spoilers…
Under Wintry Moonlight
A thin layer of snow blankets the field before,
The water of the river is as dark as evermore,
Faintly glistening with glow of the lone moon,
Cold chills to my bones as wind howls its tune,
The faded Orion stands in guard above the trees,
And weather vane rattles as it is toyed by breeze,
If there was a raven: it froze to dead on its branch.
When you are lazy,
You take some bread,
Then slice some cheese,
Shove it into a microwave,
Take it out to add some chilli sauce.
That is my lazy bread!
That is my lazy bread!
This may sound like a nasty thing to say,
When it appeared on Twitter one day,
Even if I wanted to argue against it,
All my arguments remain unfit.
Feminism is just like cancer.
Both can be simply incurable,
Appear in types simply innumerable.
Nor do we really wish either on anyone,
As both steal away that which makes life fun.
> And yes, quite a number of feminists were triggered,
> When a fabulous conservative homosexual had it uttered!
Reality of Feminist Academia
When were are forbidden to address,
What follows is absurdity and madness,
Minds permanently wrapped in blackness,
Spewing more ignorance fuelled by malice,
Guiding lives into the direction of sadness,
Bound by only a single allowed practice,
Because it maintains someone’s status.
How it abhors to be challenged,
And debates that are fair and balanced,
For but a single fact will leave their views damaged,
For their views are but wildly imagined,
It tries to remain unchallenged.
The death of our academia,
Is directly derived from the ever rampant intellectual anaemia,
In favour of mental uraemia.
The only cure is relentless criticism armed with objectivity and facts.
Circle of Archers (For a fantasy novel)
Wait and see,
Stand and hold still,
For it is too late for us to flee,
So muster all your courage and will,
Harden your hearts for what they might plea,
For they chose to rise against us today on this hill,
Wait until they are upon us all before setting our arrows free,
Then aim beside their armoured plates and arrows will wound and kill,
So you just wait, my bravest brothers and sons, until it is their very eyes you see.
End of the Year
Final hours draw near,
As clock ticks away the year,
Not long now and rockets shall appear,
And under the dark sky I shall stand and veer,
Looking how the fireworks explode and people cheer,
So just smile; for it is the end of the year.
“Because it’s 2015”
Certainly a highpoint of the year,
Whenever people chose to cheer,
The person that just raised a rear,
Released a voice ever so cohere,
And thus everyone could sneer,
Because it was the year 2015…
If you accepted it as an argument,
It must be somewhat unfortunate,
Now when the year became 2016.
>We should end gender discrimination,
>Because it is 2015!
>We should put an end to Christianity,
>Because it is 2015!
>We should kill all white cis-men,
>Because it is 2015!
>We should kill all niggers,
>Because it is 2015!
>Because it is 2015!
For each of the above points;
The argument remains just as valid,
Therefore—for each—it is just as invalid.
(This is holds true even if it is 2016, or any other year after it.)
Black Pig’s Monologue (For a fantasy novel.)
I stood here before,
Before the birth of yore,
Waded through shallow shore,
Fought battles now remembered in lore,
Made oaths I would never have thought to swore,
And now you stand there before me and this very door,
Leave now; before I finish my count to four,
Or you will find yourself on the floor,
Perhaps no better as pile of gore,
For I am one mad boar.
#OregonUnderAttack (03/01/2016 – Day/Month/Year)
Oh boy: it seems a bunch of armed men now squat a Federal building,
And deep down: in all honesty, it is laughter that I am feeling,
Simply because their actions are quite inane and stupid,
While the Twitter critics are not much less deluded,
With their accusations of terrorism and racism,
In the form of barely 140 character criticism.
Were I to clarify myself:
I presume that Oregon is a locale primarily within the United States,
>So by default: we are not exactly dealing with international terrorism.
I presume that in Oregon they have those ‘open carry’ laws in place,
>So by default: we are bit short of the definition of domestic terrorism.
And finally, I presume that no one has been killed or injured thus far,
>So by default: we are not even looking at the federal crime of terrorism.
Therefore—at the moment of writing—these armed men are protesters,
And based solely on their squatting actions: also global jesters.
The Hugos Approach Once More
This might be the start of a brand new year,
But what follows is perhaps all too clear,
Things are not as calm as they appear,
As some await that chance to smear,
While some others sharpen their spear;
If for no other reason than to hound a hound,
Should even a single strand of its hair ever be found.
Once again: it is claimed that there is a correct way to bay,
Any deviation from tone or pitch is faced with a nay,
So quick to toss aside what others have to say,
Simply irritated on how others wish to play,
Thus their wishes carry and hold so little sway,
When the hounds asked for all works of merit to be found,
And if that is something so horrible: it will not be the only list around.
Oh, and I am sure the Sad Puppies are still ever so sad,
Even when called as ‘hounds’ to make the kickers seem slightly less mad.
Well, in every set of grinning fangs, you will find a fan.
Freedom of Religion
There can be no freedom of religion,
If my actions are restricted by your religion,
Neither can it exist if yours are restricted by mine,
Therefore if I ignore your beliefs: do in kind with mine.
Therefore one’s religion and faith become null arguments,
Something outright ignored without any artfulness,
For beliefs of others are easily disregarded,
If they are not just outright discarded.
Hence any change must be argued by its merits,
It must be presented with facts instead of devout hysterics,
And while it might take much longer to get the majority convinced,
It is better than chanting local ‘alleluia’ among bodies of those hacked and cleaved.
Something not obvious to those without decades and centuries of cultural tolerance,
To economic immigrants and refugees with a past of religious dominance,
Thus we risk loosing our freedom of religion upon their demands,
And produce a society where no one dares to shake hands.
There is a need to remain adamant against religious demands,
For the concept of religious freedom can be very hard to understand,
As it requires one to tolerate that which is seen as either sinful or forbidden,
But how to measure that willingness to tolerate before a residence permit is written?
> Perhaps by the kilograms of ‘forbidden food’ that was willingly eaten.
Steven Universe Censored in UK
A popular cartoon was made less gay,
And so they cry about censorship,
But what was it that they had to say,
On a similar case of censorship?
>It is not censorship:
It is, in fact, improved upon!
>It is not censorship;
If it is not the government!
>It is not censorship:
It is merely localization!
It would be easy for me to gloat,
Even laugh until it hurts my throat…
Yet the fact remains:
Artistic expression is a must for all and the only way,
And though this might be a though pill to swallow,
Whenever you oppose the censorship of others today,
You oppose the censorship of yourself tomorrow.
Look at the denial,
Within the media’s narrative,
How they try turn back time with a dial,
It will never work; but it still remains their imperative.
The longer they persist,
The greater their own denial grows,
Thus ever louder they shall shout and even insist,
Perhaps even when truth is what everyone else already knows.
So how many rapes shall it be,
How many women harassed on the streets,
Before the people finally open their fucking eyes to see,
And realise the reality beyond the confines of their pillows and sheets?
I allow the scalding heat wash away,
For my troubles and worries hold no sway,
A deep breath in the gloom and I feel the heat flay,
A moment of peace and calm almost impossible to convey.
It is your afternoon tea,
Or hot dog at the fifth avenue.
A somewhat popular twitter account was unverified,
And as a direct result: Twitter populace was dyed,
With the colours of tragedy to show some solidarity,
And thus everyone became both fabulous and gay,
If only Twitter had a way to distinguish the real Milo,
You know: perhaps some kind of authenticity halo!
As this example of ‘soft-censorship’ extends,
It just shows how this ride never ends.
Worlds Apart (For a science fiction novel)
The two of us stare distant stars,
The lines ruled by our insane tzars,
So keen to claim the mantle of Mars,
As their planets are shattered like jars,
Death and destruction held by no bars,
And people who see nothing but scars,
How this galaxy once used to be ours,
But it became a passage in memoirs,
With the failures of peace seminars,
Thus we die; as children of Ares.
After A Lifetime On Mars
It is a god-awful sad affair,
For this boy with messy hair,
How he wishes the news wasn’t so,
But sadly everyone has a day when they go.
He really was a sight to be seen,
With songs straight out of a dream,
More meaning that was clearly in view,
And today those are all playing on the screen.
Thus I hope his time wasn’t a bore,
That he lived for ten times even or more,
As time moves fast: and not just in the eyes of fools,
Making it ever so hard to know: what we should focus on.
When the house is too silent,
So empty it only feels violent,
A pain that you cannot ignore,
Cannot stand it a moment more,
Hence it consumes your mind,
Makes the world appear unkind,
And that is the nature of longing,
A cruel moment ever haunting,
As you strive for distractions,
For the smallest of interactions,
But there you stand all alone,
Robbed of what made home,
Wishing for that minute more,
With the one you simply adore,
To see the smile of your love,
But only the ceiling waits above.
Jar Jar Binks – Ahmed Best
There is that fan theory of Binks being a Sith Lord,
It certainly made this hated character much more adored,
Then our actor said something worthy of encore,
Few lines from Taken and nothing more,
Thus I see Binks as the true Sith Lord,
A wasted opportunity now left unexplored,
A twist Ahmed Best could have easily pulled off,
And thus the prequels face all that scoff,
For a core character was missing,
To stop fans from hissing.
Did the fans themselves ruin the prequels?
Before their time
I did not know her,
Nor do I know what to confer,
But a part of me understands ever still,
For a life can feel like fighting a windmill,
A struggle for strength and courage to carry on,
Until it suffocates the will to see yet another dawn,
What it is like to stare into the darkness of abyss,
And realise there is no other escape from this,
Not as long as a heart beats in your chest,
Therefore you just long to rest,
Dive into life’s end.
Thus it is cruel of me,
But there still is a new day to see,
Another hill to climb up and overcome,
Even when you only feel fed up and numb,
To carry on this journey without any end,
But time gives us ways to mend,
Some good after the bad.
A reason to smile,
Will carry more than a mile,
It is not your time.
Drama Queens and #GamerGate
They are all special spastics,
With their own mental gymnastics,
Along with their preferred set of tactics,
With as much depth as a plate made of plastic!
> Not to mention the only thing they have in common,
> Is exactly how many things they find uncommon!
Hence why their pointless interpersonal problems,
Will sting eyes of those without any goggles,
For there is a multitude of raised bottoms,
Ready to spill and shoot like revolvers.
> But this nonsense tends to be pushed aside,
> For there are things more important than their pride.
For example when a congresswoman acted all madcap,
And used her political heft to shut down an app,
Angering many teenage girls with her crap,
A perfect moment to laugh and clap.
> And then focus on video game censorship,
> For freedom of speech shouldn’t be allowed to slip.
Art Made of Someone’s Fart
Not all that long ago: I went to see some art,
The old paintings managed to move my heart,
The minute detail and effort seen in tiniest part,
The truest beauty that human effort could impart.
Then I went to see the much more modern works,
And I still have to wonder if those posses any perks.
I guess it was the advent of camera that turned art,
Into nothing more than a glorified fart,
Without anything to impart,
So I released a fart.
The Big Questions, Season 9, Episode 2
> ‘Does social media reveal men’s hatred of women?’
An argument should never be covered by an opponent’s shriek,
A good moderator must ensure that all have their turn to speak,
How else could we know if our emperor was naked for a week?
It means the moderator has to tell some people to just shut up,
For they clearly lack the tact to act like any other grown-up,
And listen to an opposing argument from a gay buttercup.
> All things considered: the answer is no, just check that PEW study.
It is just a word,
So it shifts in meaning,
Before any changes to its shape.
How I have come to loathe this word,
For these days it is used without meaning,
Mere blunt instrument mangled out of shape.
Yet there is no replacement for abuse as a word,
Nothing else to pass the intended meaning,
A way to give your experience a shape.
Help is not given without this word,
But it is loosing its meaning,
Mangled out of shape.
A much needed word,
Soon robbed of all meaning…
To some it is still an impossible word to say,
So please listen him out for what he has to say,
For uttering this word is harder than anything else,
He cannot shake the fear of becoming less than himself.
Perhaps then this world might become a better place to be.
Orders of Magisters (For a fantasy novel)
Knights of the Sky,
With the fury of dragons they fly.
The Order of Steel,
What they wrought makes you heel.
Guardians of the Chalice,
To them life and death are triviality.
Masters of Lore,
They guard the knowledge of before.
The Council of the Magisters,
They judge all with their hammers.
Blades of Red,
Their lineage remains pure bred.
Their chest is full of gold and sorrow.
Those Born of Silver,
Their wrath makes blood flow like river.
Tower and Shield,
It is the red cloaks they command and wield.
The Night’s Keepers,
They watch over and act as seekers.
Fellows of the Sea,
The stories they bring create glee.
Masters of Mountains,
They watch over the countless gardens.
Keepers of Fate,
They peer past reality’s gate.
Order of Fire,
Created by a mere squire.
The Hundred Collages,
They refine talent from mirages.
Together they squabble for prestige and power,
But for us here on the street: they come from one tower.
Today feminist hate of boobs is not enough,
It seems that feminist now want to ban all butts!
That shape of roundness makes them huff and puff,
Therefore, they demand it covered as it drives them nuts!
Perhaps they object to all female anatomy below the scruff,
For it might make them feel very uncomfortable with their guts!
Or perhaps they see butts as some vile patriarchal misogynistic snuff,
Even when no one is harmed and humanity liked butts before first huts!
In our liberal Western world there is so much butt that it might be enough,
After all: normal people do not leap upon the first specimen that struts!
Thus by banning: perhaps our feminist long hands on their real stuff,
A grope from someone who isn’t a drunkard, migrant or just klutz!
Sexual frustration might be why modern feminists are so gruff,
The attention their butts garner apparently feels like peanuts!
A t-shirt with the slogan: “My butt isn’t fondled enough,”
Might bring the action they long upon their butts!
On that possible ninth planet?
News call it as Planet Nine,
It might stuck and that is fine,
But sadly the name doesn’t align.
Even though I posses no means to find it,
I think Terminus could make a wonderful fit,
Though a mere deity of barrier markers; I admit,
It would fit due to the six objects and their odd orbits.
And though this might make sound like a colossal internet troll,
What if instead of a planet: it is a miniature black hole?
It makes an interesting bet if nothing more,
Who knows what our system has in store!
Gregory Alan Elliott, Not Guilty
Gregory Alan Elliot was found not guilty,
A verdict that should have arrived quickly,
But it took over three years and that is a pity,
For chances are none will bear any responsibility,
Of how one innocent man was ostracised by society,
And suffered three years without any semblance of mercy,
Thus, I hope the rocky road still ahead of him becomes less hilly.
When Bob bought a new boat,
Keenly he showed it float,
Couldn’t help but gloat,
Others to take note,
Until it sank,
With a kick of a goat.
I Do Not Know
I do not know,
So who to ask for,
For answers you owe,
Since you show the door,
Admitting you do not know,
And you stomp feet on the floor,
But someday I will certainly know.
Fear on the Streets
Once more the history repeats,
There is fear on the streets.
Dominoes are falling,
There is no stalling.
As anger is churning.
Today vigilantism is on rise,
Regardless of attempts to chastise.
When the silenced are no longer silent,
They have lost all reason to be compliant.
A day closer to when things get out of hand,
Because things rarely go just as planned.
But thing things kind of already are,
And many wish to have no more.
There is fear on the streets,
As the history repeats.
The more I find about it,
The more dubious it becomes.
You can forget all those talks of merit,
The ones the Fandom continues to parrot,
For each year there is less prestige to inherit,
A plastic rocket turned into a mere rotten carrot.
A part of me hopes that the Sad Puppies loose again,
This whole mess could be left to die and wane,
A club for the petty to call as their domain,
With a trinket to control via ordain.
But should Puppies succeed,
Then how to proceed?
It still is a mess.
#AstroSH – Sexual Harassment in Astronomy?
Some have made their accusations,
Presented serious allegations,
But not with many details,
Or facts placed on scales.
Thus this sexual harassment in astronomy,
Appears to be nothing but a piece baloney,
An accusation that sounds horrible enough,
That facts aren’t needed with a talented bluff.
Where is the evidence,
I ask without arrogance,
For it wouldn’t be first time,
When some seek fame through grime.
Why Censorship Doesn’t Work
A censor produces a public example,
How they are very willing to trample,
It does not matter who is the example.
If this censorious gambit is successful,
Many self-censor and try to be careful,
If only to avoid consequences dreadful.
Hence the claims that censorship works,
For sticking ones own head has no perks,
The courageous are dealt by mere clerks.
The need to talk will eventually grow big,
And pressure alone snaps our censor’s twig,
Until truth cannot be covered by a leaf of fig.
It will also affect what it was not supposed to,
Every list of bigotry also has a mention of you,
Just a matter of time before you are silenced too.
> For example Merkel’s request to censor Facebook.
> Content of video games diced and chopped out of fear.
> Or when feminist favourite cartoon was made to be less gay.
> The road to hell is paved with the most inane of good intentions.
There they blink,
Like specks in dark ink,
Over such a distance they wink,
I wonder if someone else is there to think.
But they all glow as remnants of the past,
A faint memory before final blast,
Stars were not built to last,
In darkness so vast.
I must ponder the state of these sceptics,
For their reaction to a tweet was almost electric!
First they pronounced free speech and then denounced it,
With such mental gymnastics: their heads are bound to get hit!
Truly that tweet must have hurt their delicate feelings,
As they voluntarily jumped through their ceiling!
I would laugh if this wasn’t also rather sad,
Comical criticism turned sceptics mad!
And so Dawkins was disinvited.
Before YouTube was a scene,
There were ‘react’ videos to be seen,
Plain home videos on the television screen,
It does not matter that video quality wasn’t so clean,
The Fine Brother Entertainment videos are still nothing new.
Their many attempts to trademark the word ‘react’ are obtuse,
And they do not even understand the concept of fair use,
Even when that is their own money making goose,
Thus it is their subscribers that they loose,
Such is the fate of too greedy fools.
An Asylum Seeker
How do you prove disbelief,
A question that may sound naive,
But suspicion of an attempt to deceive,
Will mean that your words carry no reprieve.
Thus one asylum seeker presented a holy book on video:
He spat on it,
He tore pages out of it,
He stomped and jumped on it,
There was even a fire kindled out of it.
Suffice to say:
Someone truly devout is incredibly unlikely to do any of above,
To someone devout it is one of the worst crimes to think of,
A deed that warrants a punishment one cannot talk out of,
Thus our asylum seeker has to fear for his life thereof.
He says he would rather be in danger and free,
Than be safe and deprived of his freedom.
I hope he receives his asylum,
If not: he is already dead.
Just another way to self deceive,
It might work if you happen to believe,
Though it will not heal any physical disease,
But perhaps help some find some form of release.
There is no reason to self aggrieve,
Let go of the reasons to grieve,
Find your own reprieve,
And just breathe.
> It will be $200 per hour.
A Good Story
What makes a good story,
A question that has made me worry,
And caused me to ponder enough for a theory.
No matter how dreary,
Or whether the extent it is merry,
As long as it makes you smile: this can vary.
It can appear thorny,
It doesn’t have to make one adore,
If you can be happy that you experienced it.
I guess that makes a good story.
[Unsolicited Opinions On Israel???]
Some things can gain a life of their own, online,
This time because a writer lacked words to assign,
Or perhaps lacked the idea where to draw a line,
Hence that bracketed comment I find bovine,
But was it due incompetence or design?
There are those who get easily butthurt,
Who actively seek outrage so they can blurt,
Because a moment in limelight makes them squirt,
And mere apologies grant them power to exert,
For a new victim was found for their dirt.
The fact is that readers will be driven away,
When quality is replaced by ideology on display,
And due to capitalism: bad ideologies have limited stay,
Because the sheer lack of quality does not ever pay,
But sadly this message takes its time to convey.
> As for some unsolicited opinions on Israel;
> I must wonder and ask: whose side are you on?
> The people who use their own children as shields to kill other children,
> Or the people who kill other children to protect their own children?
Bad Relations Tortoise
It takes forever to change outfits,
When headed out it simply sits,
Drives all around to their wits,
Because somehow it just fits,
To see others do their splits,
Until they must call quits,
On bad relations tortoise.
If an algorithm decides what you see,
Then it means speech is no longer free,
It is controlled by someone else’s decree,
And that is something I cannot ever agree,
For our society needs to be able to disagree.
Thus this fact should be obvious for all to see,
If Twitter as a platform is not censorship free,
Then why stay to just follow censors’ decree,
Why stay if you can only say that you agree,
Why stay if you are banned if you disagree?
And though Twitter will not disappear,
A new platform is bound to appear.
Trump Nobel Peace Price?
I guess he was nominated only to be denied,
Someone thought comments cannot slide,
Something that takes media for a ride,
And allows to smile being all snide,
To pull a peg or two out his pride,
When he is simply pushed aside.
But if Donald Trump is not cast aside,
Just think all those with their hairs dyed,
How their outrage would spread far and wide,
As they shout on a decision they refuse to subside!
I mean; if Obama got one from being the first black US president,
Why not Trump for being the host of some illegal alien?
> (Yes, it is a joke on his hair.)
Red Toy Boat
A red boat rests on a shallow pond,
I wonder why the kid did not abscond,
For a child’s toys are treasures most fond,
I nudge it with my feet to push it far beyond,
As far as it can go in the pond rain had spawned.
Chinese New Year
I just realised:
It is something I might have to celebrate,
And refusing is something I cannot abate,
Hence I fear there is too much on my plate,
Cultural thing I have little experience to date,
So I wonder how could I hope to even partake,
Considering how these family things frustrate,
And how as clueless fool I’m bound to misstate,
Or perhaps even spark some old furious debate,
Or what of all the things you cannot translate?
Oh how I dread this Chinese New Year.
Thoughts On New Hampshire Results
Both Trump and Sanders,
They are no longer mere bystanders,
Therefore both shall face even more slanders,
From the timid flock of usual establishment ganders.
Good luck to both in their race,
I hope that neither gives up their chase,
As they are candidates gamers tend to embrace,
While looking at each other’s first choice with disgrace.
I think it would be most amusing,
If final candidates were of gamers’ choosing,
And I recognise how that might seem quite confusing,
But a large sample size makes their opinions worth perusing.
‘Mansplaining’ in Australian Senate
> ‘It is a word that is used.’
- Senator Katy Gallagher’s defence for her sexist allegation.
I find myself somewhat amused,
Because it is true that words are used,
But I am not surprised to see her confused,
Once her chosen word was poignantly refused,
I guess she didn’t consider it could ever be recused,
Or that rampant hypocrisy wouldn’t one day be excused.
Thus, I must tip my metaphorical hat to Senator Mitch Fifield.
“A Study Shows”
There is clear scientific illiteracy in the world of news,
When studies are reported without any peer review,
It is mostly done to confirm ideological views,
Because who cares if the facts were too few,
When readers simply lack time to peruse,
Or means to show that lies aren’t true.
If our news report what amounts to mere pseudo science,
That is nothing but a disservice to all fields of science,
Due to the ignorance of those who seek compliance,
Public trust will vanish in wake of sheer defiance,
News reporting relies solely on public reliance,
And trust is not an easily replaced appliance.
Hence – a study shows that peeing your pants is unwise,
It might warm for a moment – but not until sunrise,
In fact – it might even result in genital demise,
Something as painful as its sound implies,
A test you are now forced to reprise,
As we cannot trust and surmise.
> Dedicated to BBC
UN tries to ban Japanese video game boobies
What a time it is to be alive,
When the common sense takes a dive,
When only the puritan stupidity seems to thrive,
When there seems to be no other goal for UN to strive,
Than to step up and seek to ban Japanese video game boobies.
Who cares for violations of basic human rights,
It is the video game boobies that UN has set its sights,
Offended by these virtual representations of women in tights,
Horrified of the thought of someone gaming in a room without lights,
Truly – UN must long to save humanity from Japanese video game boobies!
> ‘Will someone please think of the pixels on a screen!’
Run to your mother’s hem – if you think I am being far too mean,
If you are offended – then you can turn off your own screen,
After all – an individual choice determines what is seen,
And since you didn’t buy – why even make a scene?
Just let people see the pixels they have paid for.
But even still; UN tries to ban Japanese video game boobies,
While fear of death and rape touches lives of civilians,
While real women are mutilated in their millions,
And UN remains without a shred of brilliance,
As they long to ban mere pixels on a screen.
Twitter’s Trust and Safety Council
How is it even going to work,
When it already sounds so Orwellian?
How could there be any trust,
When it is the worst of the internet that gather,
A council with liars and outrage profiteers that wish to slather?
How could there be any safety,
When Twitter has chosen to act as the sponsor,
And promote some of the most horrendous internet monsters?
> Some of the members did not even have their own web pages,
> And for some others their links simply lead nowhere,
> Perhaps a PR stunt is all that is found here.
But if it is not…
And if there is anything history has taught,
There are some questions that I am forced to ask:
Will any tweets be airworthy,
When hinged feminists cry for safety?
When hinged feminists demand safety from reality?
Will any tweets be airworthy,
When hinged feminists oppose free speech?
When hinged feminists think everything is hate speech?
Edit: Friday, 4^th^ March 2016
> They fixed the links at least,
> But there is no organisation for free speech,
> Only the foul stench of things they long to impeach,
> With insularity of the shared ideology they wish to preach,
> The few genuine organisations are a mask for an Orwellian monster.
> “Gonna sleep a bit jore. Oofe ya, have fnL.”
Strange how a mind can feel so clear,
But what comes out is not even near,
Though it pierces me like a spear,
Here I laugh along with my dear,
Due a message far from cohere,
Awkwardly even I shed a tear,
For its shape is quite queer.
Truth be told,
There is a mould,
A marvel to behold,
For this poem is a mark,
With a purpose quite stark,
That makes formatting a lark…
With this handy reference bookmark.
The False Allegations of Spain
A false allegation can ruin a life,
But never does it cause more strife,
Than when society takes up the knife,
And decides to carve until misery is rife.
Perhaps nowhere more obvious than in Spain,
Where bad laws have caused falsehoods to reign,
As false allegations result in obvious financial gain.
And accused are guilty even after evidence of innocence,
I cannot imagine greater example of legislative wickedness.
Yet no one cares – simply because the victims here are mere men.
Imagine a literal glass ceiling,
A barrier that remains unfeeling,
To pass you must appear appealing,
With skills and talents worth revealing,
Without the safety acquired by concealing,
A challenge that leaves most of us simply reeling,
And so – many of us are happy to be underneath kneeling.
But some of us still do their best to push themselves through,
Not a day to rest for there are more things to accrue,
To acquire that price just before their view,
A mere glass ceiling to push through,
It does not matter who you screw,
As shards fall with your début,
A success meant for only few.
That is – what is – talked today;
How to shatter that ceiling on this day!
And shatter they shall – until the glass is no more,
But what awaits is a sight they must abhor,
The glass ceiling is there – once more,
For its nature is not that of a floor,
It is a challenge few truly adore.
It seems critics hated it,
While our film goers loved it,
We can make what we can out of that,
For most people – this film did not fall flat,
It remained true enough with the source material,
Hence the sense of humour that is venereal,
And although as a film it is still trivial,
Seeing it with friends is convivial.
It is nothing short of a box office hit…
Thus it is likely that there will be a sequel,
But it is not enough if it is just equal,
It has to be something little better,
To avoid becoming a dead letter.
Today it is a whiff of fresh air,
Tomorrow: soiled underwear.
Good luck with number two.
It ain’t new, just a new coat of paint
All can see what was built from sand dust,
It will never reach those promises grandest,
Reality and time have proved this blandest,
It is what follows every single propagandist.
In 20th century: it was marxism.
In order to support their ideology,
Media misrepresented without apology,
Even manufactured examples of victimology,
To replace reality with their ideological mythology.
And I must admit:
There is a bad side to everything,
Hence there is always some shit to fling,
Sometimes even enough for a shovel to swing,
But in the long run – you will not smell like spring.
Thus eventually – none will believe.
In 21st century: it is now the age of regressive progressivism,
And the old cycle repeats with this re-branded marxism…
Pierced by thousand pins whenever the wind bites,
The streets are dyed in odd shades of whites,
As the sole witness to strange sights,
I walk along these cold nights,
Among the city’s lights,
Actually it is about tulips
It is wet and sticky,
But you cannot be too picky,
Because for once it is not that tricky,
You can build wonders from snow,
That is all you need to know,
So get there and plough,
And don’t hesitate to be slow,
Or have that snowball to throw,
Just play along and follow the flow,
Because for once it is not all that tricky,
And even though it is wet and sticky,
You have no reason to be picky.
Virtual Reality Massively Multi-player Online
IBM has sponsored something,
It leaves me almost visibly blushing,
I am almost on the edge of even jumping,
Without my better judgement – naively trusting,
All while noticing that I have also started humming.
There are new worlds we are creating,
Filled with life almost pulsating,
Experiences worth equating,
Isn’t it exciting?
Why I Left Twitter Behind
The quality of the service isn’t worth a song,
And it is clear that free speech does not belong,
Once it could have become such a wonderful song,
But its tune has now changed into a mere swan song,
As our bird’s beak was glued for a tune deemed wrong,
And thus it is no more a companion to consider lifelong,
When any tune will be gagged for failing to play along.
So much of the grand vision of a universal utility,
The trend appears to be in favour of docility,
An environment of intellectual sterility,
That correlates with plain senility.
Thus, I left it behind.
A price to be paid (For a fantasy novel)
For long it has been said,
There is a price to be paid,
If you ever seek out his aid,
It will be far from a fair trade,
Yet you still needed that blade,
Therefore your bed is now laid,
A fate that will never be swayed,
So sent a letter to your bridesmaid,
Ask aid to have your long hair braid.
On this night
It is going to be all right,
The clouds are tinged white,
And the few stars are alight,
Not much else to write,
On this night.
Opening Up Libel Laws
Talk about a rock and a hard place,
Whether opening up libel laws is a disgrace,
Or possibly something to embrace,
It is a topic that requires the use of boldface.
A question of how our modern news spread,
Because the reality is something to dread,
Our media spews out what it was fed,
The stories are just pushed ahead.
In fact this process is like a torrent website,
A single upload and it might take flight,
No consideration of wrong and right,
As the act of sharing is very trite.
In both cases content was from an uploader,
And everyone else acts like a freeloader,
No one bothers to inspect the odour,
Beyond a shrug of their shoulder.
And then there is the ad revenue from clicks,
The very reason why there is no easy fix,
Money is intrinsically tied to politics,
Any change causes huge conflicts…
(… of interest.)
Yet we have one notable difference,
Torrents became a topic of indifference,
As modern alternatives rose to significance,
The ease and affordability became deliverance.
But sadly there is no such easy solution with news,
Instead of delivery – the content forms the ooze,
The lack of enforced standards enable misuse,
Abuse of those deemed with wrong views.
The current state of reporting is a disgrace,
Opening up the libel laws feels like a solution to embrace,
Yet it is still between a rock and a hard place,
Misuses of libel laws must be acknowledged with boldface.
Sun and Moon
I feel excited,
A new quest is ignited,
But for her it is a bit uninvited,
For this particular interest is unrequited,
She will hate both sun and the moon,
When those are released soon,
And I’ll be the buffoon,
Trying catch them all…
BLM and KKK
They may think their love to the other is unrequited,
But today it is hard to find another group as bigoted,
As their demands for segregation remain uninhibited,
And neither sees a reason why hate should be limited,
Because all those lies told piled up and became riveted,
Robbing both of their ability to remain sensibly inhibited,
Or how neither of them truly stand at the top of the pyramid.
And just as before – the bigotry spreads when people look away.
BLM: “We are living under a white supremacist society!”
KKK: “Why thank you, we believe that is just propriety.“
> (When there is a fucking black president.)
KKK: “A difference in skin colour is a sign of inferior race!”
BLM: “We’ll protest like panicked cattle to prove your case.”
> (Together it is almost like performance art.)
> Basically a bacon, lettuce sandwich by morons.
> They really like an outdated Star Trek reference.
I woke up with one,
And I wish I could run,
Because this makes me stun,
Blink and wish for a way to undone,
Almost wish for coldness from a mere gun,
To never experience this again while under the sun…
It is too easy to abuse copyright laws,
Especially if you have a political cause,
And wish to place any criticism on pause,
You just file a DMCA on grounds faux pas,
Even when there is no case based on those laws,
You wish the criticism dies while bound by legal jaws…
The above is one of the many ways DMCA take downs are misused,
And things need to change to make Youtube great again.
They try to satirise a man already seen as a joke,
What is hoped to achieve with this attempt to stoke?
And the sad part is that it was preceded by valid criticism,
But it fell flat due to John Oliver’s very own egoism,
Coupled with his longing for political activism.
This is nothing more than petty name calling,
And why Trump’s popularity is not falling,
Because it is a feeble attempt at brawling,
When it is so clear that you are crawling,
While outraged to the point of bawling.
And the people are laughing with him,
Because his critics are hopelessly dim.
Trump is shaking up the entire status quo,
And all his critics do is give him more ammo.
You created an underdog railing against the establishment.
Six months later…
How long does it take the media to correct a mistake,
With ‘Addyi’ it took about six months to hit brake,
And report how this drug is little short of fake,
More likely to leave side effects in its wake,
Than grant pleasure with its daily intake,
Women’s health was placed at stake,
And that is the beef of this steak.
All of the information was readily available since day one,
But accusations of misogyny are used just like a gun,
To get these ‘ideologically correct’ things done,
And if feminists can claim to have won,
They screw women to get it done.
( No pun intended. )
A moron in a debate
It is a moron in debate,
If one cannot listen and wait,
Consider opposing argument’s weight,
And say something beyond shouts to berate,
The religious right used to be the morons of any debate,
But today that is no longer the current state,
No matter how this fact might frustrate,
Regressive left stole that plate,
A reason to cry or elate?
Ghostbusters – 2016
It seems two out of three didn’t like the first trailer,
Cannot blame them as it didn’t show anything greater,
Just how the first film was shoved through a strainer,
And something new was added without any flavour,
It is hard to imagine that it would not be a failure,
A film is not a house improved by a renovator,
Most of all – it does not make you a hater.
The usual suspects became quite triggered…
> ‘You are just misogynist baby-man!’
> ‘(Especially if you are a woman!)’
Nope, they just want a better film.
> ‘It is [insert any “prefix”]-ist’
Political Climate Change
I saw a clip from the Daily Show,
Just a continuation of the usual row,
But I didn’t expect the cringe in store,
As writers had not thought a little more,
Because this climate change is all around,
No establishment stands upon sturdy ground.
So after eight years of change that never came,
Are you really sure voters want more of the same,
Why should anyone settle with that former first lady,
When they could actually support the real Slim Shady?
But let us assume she manages to get Democratic nomination,
Yet another step closer to her robotic global domination,
Do you believe that she will still sound like Sanders,
When it is Trump voters’ turn to hear panders?
Or will she have her own wall to build,
For which Canada might be billed,
In order to prevent any escapes,
When voters become grapes?
Political climate change,
Is in four year’s range.
No free speech without hate speech
There is no free speech without hate speech,
A statement that might make some screech,
For they wish to impose limits on speech,
As mere words can make them screech.
So let us follow through their demands,
Let us cover our very mouths with hands,
But it will not be the end of their demands,
As limits of offence are not bound by hands.
The defence of words that you deem as hate,
No matter how much those might frustrate,
Is our only defence for words others hate,
Because sometimes mere facts frustrate.
No idea what to write
No idea what to write,
I’d rather go out and fly a kite,
Should be more fun than a poetic bite,
But somehow skipping a day doesn’t feel right,
So I guess – this one just has to do – for today’s night.
First echoes of spring
I heard birds sing yesterday,
While I stood along the river bay,
Cloudy – but warmth was on its way
But now it seems winter is here to stay,
As snow falls once more this very day,
I can see branches bend under its weigh,
A little longer until spring finds its way,
Until then the clouds will remain grey,
Waiting for Sun to wash them away,
It does not really matter anyway,
I heard the echoes yesterday.
Enjoy the sound of crunch,
To stuff it in twice the amount of lunch,
Until a thin piece gets stuck – throwing an oral punch.
And thus our devourer’s gums begin to bleed,
After this otherwise joyous deed,
A mere piece of a seed,
How to become a ‘GamerGater?’
> How to become a ‘GamerGater?’
People usually get thrown into the pit,
This act is usually done on mere flit,
In order to deem some words unfit,
To forever deny and never admit,
How mirror reveals a hypocrite.
To most progressives there is a thin line,
It determines what is wrong and fine,
Where feet and tongues must align,
How anything beyond is malign,
It is almost by their own design,
And so they balance on a line,
Until it crooks their spine.
> You haven’t answered my question.
If you ever demand for evidence that is factually concrete,
If you are not intimidated by the attempts to mistreat,
If you refuse to go to the other side of the street,
If you keep standing on your own two feet,
Then that alone makes you kind of neat,
And a ‘GamerGater’ in a single tweet.
#TheTriggering, 9^th^ of March
A day to post ‘offensive’ things on social media,
To combat our modern intellectual anaemia,
That today corrodes even our academia,
Because some find solace in tedium,
Thus censorship is their premium,
And ire shatters that medium.
So go and post on social media,
Their triggering is almost immediate.
Staring at the screen
I need some sleep,
Or else I shall weep,
I long to count sheep,
But I struggle to leap,
And thus I must reap,
The price that is steep,
For my lack of sleep.
Worth of a Name
Just sound and letters on a paper,
A name is nothing more than vapour,
So what separates our common scraper,
From our world renowned bullshit draper?
There is nothing but the illusion of worth,
Either self-forged or granted by birth,
And just like with a balloon’s girth,
A pin brings it down to earth.
Thus the worth of a name,
Is based on nothing more than a claim,
That it might carry something more than its fame,
An illusion that melts away if brought too close to a flame.
‘A Safe Space’
Imagine those who have lived their entire lives inside a bubble,
How they have rolled onwards without slightest of trouble,
And how they will react upon the smallest of nubble,
How the most insignificant amount of trouble,
Is an outrage that makes them babble,
They never expected to struggle,
Hence their minds jumble,
Requiring a tit to suckle,
For they are in trouble,
It came beyond bubble.
Now imagine a group shielded from opinions of another,
Raised and hidden from all things that might bother,
And they see free speech as something to smother,
As their lack of experience makes them stutter,
And facts and opinions make them shudder,
Incapable to understand reasons to mutter,
Tiniest thing becomes a crack of thunder,
And fear drives them to smother another.
A society without free speech can only be violent,
Because any disagreement must be made silent,
Often by means the situation wouldn’t warrant,
The pressure builds until it becomes a torrent,
For whatever reason they cannot remain silent,
Even if it means resorting to acts that are violent.
And what we see today is a demand for safe spaces,
They have taken a hold of our universities of all places…
A generation or more raised into ignorance of intolerance,
And they believe to be the very beacons of tolerance…
Ultimately their ‘safe space’ is anything but safe.
Encryption and ‘back doors’
It is easy to demand back doors,
To make the world’s secrets yours,
For those are kept in open drawers,
Easily reached even at distant shores,
But it also means that so are all of yours,
A real encryption cannot have any back doors,
Because otherwise it is a fortress with unlocked doors,
And the dirty content of your drawers is know on distant shores.
This is my five hundredth poem,
I was going to goof and then some,
But some knocked down a jeroboam,
Thus another topic lies under my thumb.
SXSW had a harassment summit that became a flop,
Professional victims and harassers failed to prop,
And their panels were as interesting as a mop,
With so little audience you’d think they stop,
But they have scams and sob stories to plop,
As their alternative is a job handling a mop,
A job too honest to ever consider that swap.
That is just the background and not the crux,
As #SavePoint panel is worth more than shucks.
Out of all #GamerGate ‘related’ panels at SXSW’s hand,
SXSW deemed that the only minority woman had to be banned,
By forcing a choice between self censorship or to let free speech stand.
Regardless, the #SavePoint panel is still going to take place,
But this entire chain of events has been a full disgrace,
Partly due to who the SXSW chose to embrace,
#SavePoint takes place with one less face.
And I got 500 more poems to go.
Roughly 500 poems ago I set myself a task of writing 1000 poems at the rate of one per day. A personal challenge to see where I would go, whether I would finish or give up somewhere along the way. Therefore I present the following hundred contemporary poems on popular culture, current events, societal phenomenon, and whatever else I might fancy: One Million Gamers Strong Fallout 4 â€“ Road Goggles â€“ Again Four Lines Today Local News on Global Warning Royalty: They keep it in the family Those Governmental Peeping Toms Force Awakens Blink A blocklist of 1,32 million users This Week in Stupid, by One Sargon of Akkad Trump: Creation of the Regressive Left Salt and Steam (For a fantasy novel) Too warm for December How to handle those terrible online public reactions Back Working For Royal Society On The Husbands of River Song Under Wintry Moonlight Lazy Bread #FeminismIsCancer Reality of Feminist Academia Circle of Archers (For a fantasy novel) End of the Year â€œBecause it's 2015â€ Black Pig's Monologue (For a fantasy novel.) #OregonUnderAttack (03/01/2016 â€“ Day/Month/Year) The Hugos Approach Once More Freedom of Religion Steven Universe Censored in UK #Cologne A sauna #JeSuisMilo Worlds Apart (For a science fiction novel) After A Lifetime On Mars Something cruel Jar Jar Binks â€“ Ahmed Best Before their time Drama Queens and #GamerGate Art Made of Someone's Fart The Big Questions, Season 9, Episode 2 Abuse Orders of Magisters (For a fantasy novel) #StrategicButt On that possible ninth planet? Gregory Alan Elliott, Not Guilty Boat I Do Not Know Fear on the Streets Hugo Awards #AstroSH â€“ Sexual Harassment in Astronomy? Why Censorship Doesn't Work Stars Dawkins Disinvited #UnSubTheFineBros An Asylum Seeker Self-help Nonsense A Good Story [Unsolicited Opinions On Israel???] Bad Relations Tortoise #RIPTwitter Trump Nobel Peace Price? Red Toy Boat Chinese New Year Thoughts On New Hampshire Results 'Mansplaining' in Australian Senate â€œA Study Showsâ€ UN tries to ban Japanese video game boobies Twitter's Trust and Safety Council Sleep typing â€œ69â€ The False Allegations of Spain Glass Ceiling Deadpool It ain't new, just a new coat of paint Blizzard Wanderer Actually it is about tulips Virtual Reality Massively Multi-player Online Why I Left Twitter Behind A price to be paid (For a fantasy novel) On this night Opening Up Libel Laws Sun and Moon BLM and KKK Headache #MakeYoutubeGreatAgain #MakeDonaldDrumpfAgain Six months later... A moron in a debate Ghostbusters â€“ 2016 Political Climate Change No free speech without hate speech No idea what to write First echoes of spring Popcorn How to become a 'GamerGater?' #TheTriggering, 9th of March Staring at the screen Worth of a Name 'A Safe Space' Encryption and 'back doors' 500 miles