Search This Blog

Thursday, 19 October 2017

Him Though

Him Though

Alexander Gordon Jahans

The world is lighting up with the hashtag #MeToo as people all across the world come forward to talk about sexual assault and sexual harassment. And I’ve not been talking about it because I have nothing to say. I have not been sexually assaulted nor sexually harassed and I’m not a woman nor have I ever been particularly femme so I don’t have any stories of trying to avoid such an issue.

So why am I writing an article on this?

Because with the call comes the response and I have been there.

Do you know what happened when I really learned about feminism? Beyond the idea that women should be equal and into the ways that they weren’t, the ways that society keeps women unequal? I became an anti-feminist.

I was so outraged and so hurt because I lived in a bubble of ignorance where sexism was like homelessness in that it happens, it sucks, but there’s nothing anybody can really do so you don’t think about it. Terms like Patriarchy and Rape Culture sounded like Chem Trails and Anti-Vaxxing. They sounded like conspiracy theories and I am programmed by society to dismiss conspiracy theories.

The thing is that Radical Feminists and the Alt-Right have one thing in common, their communities are designed like traps to weed out the unworthy because outsiders can be so dangerous. I can understand why it happens. Cliqueification is natural when a community gets established, inside jokes get established, new terminology is coined. I mean look at the Bechdel Test the way you hear it described it sounds like it’s up there with the Skinner effect or the double slit experiment in Quantum Physics. It’s actually an idea taken from a lesbian comic.

I am not belittling feminism. I have passed through my phase of anti-feminism but I keep saying men I trust and like tripping up on the same hurdles. It’s all very well and good telling us to shut up and listen but that is not how men do anything. We practice, we experiment, we analyse and interrogate data. We call the teacher on bullshit when we see it and we want the answer explained in terms that we understand. Not all men clearly. And it is important to point out that we are not talking about all men.

The thing is feminism and the LGBTQA+ community has been immersed in this world and this war for fucking years. They are bloodied and scarred veterans and then we come up to them like guys who’ve just played five minutes of call of duty and we want all the answers. Heck I think about how frustrated and tired I feel explaining computers to my pensioner mother when I have used ubuntu, windows and macintosh. It’s like how do I explain the fundamental basics of this theory and metaphor to you when you think so differently to me and you are but a babe lost in the woods. Except oh yeah with Feminism this lost babe is telling you that the war you’ve been fighting your whole life isn’t real and you are just a bitter arsehole of an individual who is stupid, wrong and judgemental.

I have been stalked by fucking nazis and at this point I’m thinking feminists and trans people are the most patient and tolerant saints in the world because at this point my rage for those that harass me is such that death is too good for them. So I get the exasperation. I get the outrage and the bitterness and the “Oh for fuck’s sake look it up, you clearly have access to the internet” mentality.

The problem is that there comes a point when a movement stops being about hiding away in safe spaces for your own kin and starts being about creating wider change and in that wider change telling people to look it up for themselves isn’t enough. Especially because there are plenty of misogynistic shit heads looking to exploit the need for understanding and solidarity.

If your ego has been bruised you don’t want someone telling you it’s your fault, you want someone to agree with you and console you but offer suggestions as to how to improve.

So here is my advise to men freaking out in the wake of #MeToo and #HimThough

1. Don’t Panic - Yes, the problem is large, yes you are probably part of the problem but you can’t do anything to help anyone while your fight or flight reflex is in gear. Even if you are a problematic and dangerous individual the fact you know changes nothing to the outside world in a negative way.

2. Women and victims are going to talk about what it is like to be women and victims. That will be jarring. That will raise ugly questions. You don’t have to jump into the boiling hot depths of discourse in the beginning. It is okay to seek out feminist discourse from perspectives you understand first.

3. Feminism is a new language of cultural references and terminology. You can no more dip into an essay of deep feminist discourse as a beginner than you could dip into series 5 of a tv show and expect to understand everything. You are allowed to be confused and ease yourself in.

4. Yes feminism is calling you out and wants you to be better, no it is not calling you a monster. Feminism is about overturning a system of oppression so perfect that we are all a part of it even if we don’t realise it. Blame is not as important as changing your part in the system off oppression.  Recognition is important but feeling shitty is not wanted, ceasing to be part of the problem is.

5. Sexism is a spectrum. This is something I am only just now coming to understand. You can be a problematic man with issues and a past and still try to get better and you will get better if you allow yourself to learn in your own way. At the same time we aren’t going to build the perfect utopia overnight. Habits have been learned, biases ingrained, tastes and instincts established. You are not going to wake up from a long nightmare to find yourself feminist and not sexist and that is okay because the world is built on sexist arseholes who tried to be less sexist and make the world less sexist and they helped.

6. Yes feminism is annoying. Yes, feminism is frustrating. Yes, feminism reeks of double standards and yes some feminists are just dickheads because feminists are still humans and we can be stupid and cruel about anything for any damned reason. This point is important because Feminism is important and as a guy being critical of feminists and feminism puts you on the same spectrum as men who are in favour of raping women. To some people that sentence is going to be ridiculously mundane and tame, to some that is going to be ridiculously offensive. Feminism will offend you. Accept that.

7. Not everything about feminism is perfect and not all feminists are perfect but the majority of it is right enough that it is useful and should be championed and learned from despite its flaws.

8. I am a 6 foot guy with a loud voice who goies walking at night and has social anxiety. If you think I am not ridiculously anxious about whether I might offend, upset or creep out women you are wrong. Anxiety about whether you are being a problem is going to happen and sometimes it will suck.

9. Like it or not feminism is the brand of equality going forward and you will get steam rolled if you decide that you aren’t sexist but you do have enough legitimate problems with feminism to stand against it. Nazis have threatened me and hurt the people I cared about to get to be because they are obsessed with trying to destroy me for standing in opposition to them. The Feminists succeeded because the feminists are right and they are all around you and if they decide you are a danger I have the utmost of pity for you because there isn’t a force in the land that can defeat the juggernaut, not forever.

10. If you are scared or intimidated by women angrily expressing their opinions then for your own sake shut up and learn feminism.

Saturday, 14 October 2017

What is capitalism?


Destroyer Of Worlds
Alexander Gordon Jahans

What is capitalism?

I used to be an anti-feminist so I’ve been in the position of trying to explain a real problem with real arseholes only to be met with the incredibly patronising. “Well The Dictionary says...”

The fact is that we live in an age where people who call themselves feminists persecute and discriminate against other women who are born differently, an age where people who are nazis and love the nazis will stubbornly insist that they aren’t nazis while getting furiously angry at anyone who insults nazis or suggests they can be brutally killed or even simply punched. This is an age where All Lives Matter is a rebuttal to Black Lives Matter despite implicitly agreeing that Black Lives Matter.

This is age of post-truth, churnalism and fake news. An age where the words themselves are up for debate and people get very angry about definitions and the placements of commas.

So before begin to accept and take on the challenge of surviving in capitalism lets define what capitalism is in its basic form and then explain what it has become.

I will lost a content warning right now that this is a champion waffler trying to be concise about an idea that can be very very complicated. Economists may need to take their anti-anxiety meds or stare at some kittens for a few hours. If you are someone who disagrees with the idea that you should care about other people, that things should be regulated or that taxes should exist then you may need to see a therapist to deal with the trauma of being challenged. You may also feel the need to write me an indepth essay explaining how you intend to rape me, my family and then my cat because the very existence of an opinion different to yours is so deeply upsetting and traumatic. My utmost sympathies and I hope you get the help you need.


Capitalism is the belief and study of capital and its affects upon society. And capital is money. A unit of exchange.

A lot of people, myself included, get very mad at capitalism, as I shall try to explain. At its most basic however capitalism is the idea that a person can exchange their energy spent producing products or performing a service for other products or services of similar value.

Capitalism is measurement. Just measurement. It’s just “Hey, you did X that means you have created Y value to society with which to spend on goods and services.”

Getting mad at the idea of capitalism is like getting mad at the units we use to measure temperature because you don’t like global warming. Yeah, hurricanes are fucking bad but you don’t get mad at Celsius, Fahrenheit or Kelvin because the global temperatures are fucked up. Except that’s part of the magic trick the people who are causing the problems have pulled. It’s like how anytime there’s a mass shooting the gun lobby convinces everyone that now is not the time to talk about gun control because an angry American is not an American who cares about money or politics.

Capitalism is a unit of exchange and that is good because it defines the value of a worker. Once a worker knows their value they can get the numbers together to threaten a company and force them to provide better pay or conditions. Knowledge is power and capitalism gives the workers that power. Because at a certain point it doesn’t matter how many workers you mistreat, if they know their economic value to the company they know that they can hold a company hostage for better pay.

The problem however is that the powerful have a lot of incentive to minimise the power of knowledge and there are just times when there is not the economic capital to provide for what the workers want. Sometimes droughts happen. Sometimes famine happens. Sometimes disease happens. When we get more into how the global economy works later I’ll explain how calamities can happen there to. Sometimes workers have to be fired, sometimes workers have to work longer hours for less pay because so much value has been lost that it has to be made up for somehow. Selling off the family silver can only get you so much capital.

This is why we have the problems we do now. Because humans are still biologically the same species that lived in small tribes in the Serengeti (white people included you fucking racist morons). I don’t have the energy to shower everyday so I can’t really blame a coal miner or a factory worker or a shelf stacker for failing to understand that there are always a minority of powerful people looking to increase their power and pleasure at the expense of others.

It’s why people like Harvey Weinstein exist, why people like Donald Trump exist, because you are yourself. It is possible to conceptually imagine the lives and thoughts and feelings of other people but one of the most profound philosophical statements is the idea that at a fundamental level you can only be sure that you exist. Experience also biases us as to what is normal.

I am a shouty, sweary, insulting arsehole at times because having been bullied for so much of my life that kind of background toxicity is just normal for me.

I can’t speak for Americans but I know that in Britain we have basically practised voluntary eugenics to breed a tribe of supersmart psychopaths. The rich send their kids to the same schools and universities where they grow up reading the same papers, watching the same shows, interacting with the same people and in a world where everybody has the same jobs. It is normal for a conservative politician to be a complete and total sadistic greedy selfish shit because everyone they know is the same way. They use private healthcare, private transport, go to private schools, read books and newspapers written by people in the same bubble and then they wonder why they can’t understand people outside their bubble.

If you lived in a world where powerful people sexually assaulted women on a regular basis and the women never kicked up enough of a fuss to make a difference (because you will destroy that which threatens your idea of normality) then you would think it was perfectly normal to sexually assault women and if you are used to living in the twilight world of the media where the constructed fantasy sex object meets the starving artist then maybe the fakery of performed femininity might just delude you into thinking that this was what women wanted?

I said before that an angry American doesn’t care for money or politics. Well neither does an angry Brit. Workers fought hard to secure better pay and working conditions but hard times hit and the powerful minority inside the conservative bubble of London and the south east exploited that anger to achieve their victory over the unions.

I am not chiefly concerned with the plight of the worker. I am concerned with the success of the system. To judge that we need to explain how the concept of a unit of exchange became a tool for oppression. To do that we need to explain how those units of exchange are distributed.

There are people among the left and the right with a complete disregard for the concept of regulation. Which I can understand. I mean I’m a white man and there are times that a read about the evil white men do and I feel such despair like “Just kill us all off already, we are monstrous arseholes!” So I get that you can just get sick of the ways a system can be exploited and want to scrap it entirely but where you have cooperation you need regulation and oversight.

Enter the company. Again Economists may feel the need to lie down for a bit as I grossly simplify something that has become very legally complex.

A company is just a group of people working together to share risk and make capital for that company. Farmers are going to need tools to work the land, fertiliser and weed killer. Butchers need to procure carcasses to butcher. Bakers need ingredients. So these companies save up capital - that is the monetary units of their societal value - and they use it to invest in their companies. Hiring more workers, procuring more tools and ingredients. Somebody has to buy the paper for the staff toilets and that money has to come from somewhere.

And once you have a company pooling the resources of multiple individuals to make capital with which to procure goods and services necessary for the functioning of that company you get the idea of loans. A loan is just a unit of societal value given on the promise that the societal value will be generated. This service is itself a kind of societal value because bakers need ingredients and farmers need tools which they need to be able to avoid first. It is only right therefore that a company which provides loans receive an amount of monetary value in return for the risk and service of allowing those companies to start operating.

And so you get banks. Because now people need somewhere to store these artificial measurements of their own societal value whilst they decide what to do with this value. The banks can then use this stored monetary value to provide loans which create more value to society and so return some amount of monetary value to the banks. The bank then pays some amount of this created monetary value to the people who story their monetary value with them as a reward for accepting the risk of storing their monetary value with them.

Once you have workers and companies and banks you then get advertising.

Now on the one hand advertising is arguably a service. I know about Square Space because they have paid for so many different advertising spots. Advertising does connect workers with spare economic capital to the creators of goods and services. At the same time however Advertising is a parasitic industry. It destroys companies and creates monopolies because advertising is the warfare of empire companies.

You see once you have abstracted the concept of the value generated by a worker from that worker you no longer need that worker to create more capital. A company exists to allow workers to work but a company also allows an individual to manipulate the abstract nature of a worker’s economic value to generate capital without the worker.

This is where banks become dangerous, where advertising becomes warfare.

First a bank realises that it creates monetary value from giving out loans and having monetary value paid back for the loan, not from being paid back the loan itself. After all if a bank is loaning other people’s money it just needs to encourage them to not take their money out of a bank. If Mrs Bloggs puts 500 units in your bank and doesn’t take those units back for a year then what you want as a bank is to give that money to someone who will keep paying the interest on the loan but not pay back the loan itself because 5 units every month is worth more to a bank than someone who borrows that 500 units then pays iot back a week later having paid them less than 5 units for the trouble.

So we enter the consumer. A consumer is someone who expends economic units. Consumers are what capitalism runs upon. It is the foundation of the free market and why I love capitalism as a system despite hating its flaws and wanting to change them.

Once a company stops being about workers having capital to work and starts being about chasing that abstract monetary value for itself then it is not just the worker who has value but a consumer. The free market is the idea that demand can drive supply. That we don’t need to become film makers, we just need to incentivise the production of films we want to see.

The free market allows multiple ways to control the powerful and democratise that control amongst the people. The free market is the idea that brands matter. That companies are controlled by their consumers.

Do you think is a fucking coincidence that the LGBTQA+ movement has exploded with the rise of the consumer?

Power is based on power. Women are vulnerable when pregnant and different races are easy to identify. This is how the white men took power and capitalism, consumerism is what is changing those old power dynamics. I don’t wish to undermine the work and sacrifices of people who fought for liberty but there is no doubt that the rise of consumerism has empowered queer black girls to have more power over powerful white men than ever before.

With consumerism and capitalism workers and consumers understand their value to the people in power and they can exploit that for the greater good.

What’s more the right wing knows this. This is why fascists rage against Neoliberals. A neoliberal chases short term profit above all. A neoliberal white man is just as psychopathic as his fascist brother but his greed has moved beyond ideology.

The problem however is that what used to be democratically controlled regulatory body has become a tool of the powerful parasites upon capitalism. The corporate empires and parasitic gamblers of debt have infiltrated Westminster, Washington and Brussels. The poor are united in their lack of fucks to give. The rich are sheep who can be herded easily with the promise of more money, something the corporate empires and parasitic gamblers have in abundance.

You see somewhere along the way banks stopped needing to actually have money to loan out. The banks and corporate empires created the magic money tree and they called it fiat currency. In other words they print money on demand because all the banks care about is having the interest paid back and all the governments and corporations care about is that they have a way to get money to set up new franchises. That society keeps ticking over.

There have been instances where a massive shock to the system has happened and people have been unable to pay back loans. Times when the magic money tree was uprooted in a storm. So what do all the governments do? Well they use taxpayers money to plant that magic money tree back firmly in demand.

Lets be clear this is a whole system that exists because of the idea that the abstraction of value can be separated from the worker who created it. So much of the system we have now is built on convincing people that an abstract notion of value can be traded and exploited like a fundamental resource even as they proceed to create economic value out of thin air.

Yet we are now in a position where our countries are run in service to this abstract confidence trick. Where are our countries are actively fucking themselves over in service this abstract magic of legalese and confidence trickery.

When I began this article I wanted to explain the fundamental problem  of the economy at the moment like the water cycle. It makes intuitive sense at first. The economy functions on money. People need money to live. There are 7 billion people on Planet Earth and one percent of the people have most of the money. That is a problem. That is unarguably clearly ridiculous. The only way you can justify it is if you believe in a meritocracy and the idea that they deserve the money. Which whatever your reasoning is provably false.

Except as the one percent have printed money and created complex artificial mechanisms to juggle these abstract units and extract value for themselves the fundamental nature of that abstract value has utterly changed.

You see companies make more money if they can sell product or provide more service without paying more money. Now since we outlawed slavery and set up the minimum wage  the only way companies can make more profit is if they can increase the valuer of their workers to society so they don’t need as many of them.

So yes we created communication technology to allow us to only pay employees for eight hours a day but keep extracting value from them even at night. We created machines to multiply the output of a single worker, systems to allow the removal of workers at all.

We are in this odd position of having a completely bonkers economic system whereby the rich and the powerful are now actively reducing the amount of people able to add economic value to the system but there is so much economic value being generated by the system that governments can support so much of the population not having jobs, businesses can go bankrupt, banks can shut down and the one percent can still make money.

I wanted to have a logical conclusion to this. I wanted to have this make sense and figure out a way through the dark but I don’t think I can. The system is far too complex and far too insane. The obvious suggestion is to prune back the financial complexity in the system but maybe that madness is how the system can continue to function. Maybe the bubbles are why the elite powerful psychopaths haven’t decided to try and outright kill off those who cannot work. Because the bubbles and the financial complexity maybe convince the psychopaths that they can just invest in more research and development actually and they can just get rid of jobs but keep providing the same service to society.

We are in this twilight where jobs still need doing. Where we still need to bribe people to do terrible things for society to function. Where we still need to convince people that they have to work and those toilets need to be cleaned, that rubbish needs to be taken away. We still need people to believe in the necessity of work and the need to suffer for it. Someone has to clear the fatbergs from the sewers and they aren’t going to do it for the good of the people comrade. At the same time we don’t need most people to work on farms or in factories or supermarkets.

We are approaching a tipping point when there won’t be enough of a percentage of the population working to justify basing our society of the distribution of economic value but we aren’t there yet and that means we still need capitalism to function. It could be functioning a fuck of a lot better but at least it’s still functioning.

Friday, 13 October 2017

The March Of Progress

The March Of Progress

Alexander Gordon Jahans

There is a war in my mind and I think the good guys are winning.

I have been so self destructive, so toxic and vile. At least as far my morality will allow in such a weakened state.

Living is hard. Get back to even square one is hard. Never mind getting to victory and self sustainability.

To win this fight to come I need to be confident in my survival and abilities, I need to be confident enough in my own morality to be morally flexible. I can’t win this as a saint, even if I could achieve such a thing.

I am a cis gendered white man who really likes to write submissive women. In the 21st century that isn’t right.

Part of my struggle to survive has been that I am not sure I should. That I feared what might become if I did.

Have been vile and bitter? Yes. Have I lashed out unfairly? Hell yes. Have I kicked down? Yes.

I do have to accept what I did. I do have to accept that even if I don’t fully understand why the pain I caused was legitimate. I also have to accept and do my best to mediate the consequences of the fact that I can’t stop writing submissive women, even when I’m trying super hard to be progressive.

I also have to accept that I have been a complete and utter fucking moron and I have attracted sadistic stalkers who will try to destroy me on a whim to satisfy their sick kicks.

I have to accept all this and then allow myself to continue on. Much easier said than done.

I then have to accept that I must trust enough in myself and my own morality to work within a capitalistic framework without freaking out.

I am different and I have been riding out one hell of a storm.

For all I know if it hadn’t been nazis and trans feminists haunting me it’d be something else. Maybe I’d be gripped by hatred of Peter Capaldi’s Doctor while my hormone’s raged and I tore at myself, I don’t know.

I also have to accept that I do think differently even at the best of times and I can’t perceieve of much of what annoys and upsets those around me. I have to be around people who understand this and can communicate effectively when I don’t understand, not just rage at me for sins I don’t even know I am doing.

I am however starting to want again, starting to plan.

The fact my latest story The Golden Girl has passed a hundred thousand words and is only keeping going as it builds towards the climax of the second act is a sign that the well of confidence, patience, determination and planning is no longer running dry. I will finish Alpha Warriors. I know that now. It will be shit and most people won’t even read one percent of it but I will get it done.

I am starting to plate spin again, starting to have long, medium and short term goals again.

I am still an arsehole for the moment. Going to be a while before I have the mental wherewitthall to look critically at myself and improve my behaviour but I have faith in my ability now to reach that point.

And here’s the thing I realised last night when the nazi twats tried to deprive me of my freedom to speak out on my hypocrisy. Short of a bullet in my brain pan I am not going to be beaten. That’s the dangerous thing with a game of escalation and trying to convince someone there is no hope and you will always come after them worse and worse. There comes a point where the prey realises that you are sincere and a cornered animal is forced to really examine what lies within in a world where there is no hope.

I will survive. That is not in question anymore. So long as I live. So long as I decide to live, I will persevere. I wrote a hundred thousand words off the back of some very basic concepts intersecting. If I have to start a new story, if I have to keep the story in my head, I will. I am hunted and I will be hunted until the day the last troll dies, so probably long after my life time. And there’s a campaign of escalation so it’s not hard to predict who the logical campaign of terror will be. It is going to suck. It is going to suck hard and I am going to do my damndest to avoid it but it won’t destroy me.

I don’t know yet where I will be able to cope with the schedules and responsibility of work but I’m not going to die if I can help it. I have things I want to do.

Thursday, 12 October 2017

To Adam Godwinson

To Adam Godwinson
Alexander Gordon Jahans

Yes, you have shown you will stalk me endlessly. Yes you have shown you will crush me if I am disobediant. No, I still don't care about you.

You provoked a reaction. You gave me one bad day and one bad night. That does not a relationship make.

I do not want your cock. I ain't interested in your clit. Your breasts are a mess and your butt hole is too much of a sludge hole. 

The reality is that I don't like you. I don't hate you. I don't even really believe that you exist. I am 95% certain you are a bunch of moron's on some anonymous internet message board who have so little going on in their lives that stalking with me is their idea of fun.

If you want to kill me. Kill me. 

Yes, you have shown you are dedicated, obsessed and I can never never stop you.

Do you know what that means though? 

That means you don't matter. That means you are like neoliberalism or climate change or poverty. You are a force of nature fucking over my life that it is not worth my time thinking about.

I am not your byfriend, girlfriend, hermaphoditic whore or noble eunuch of wisdom. I don't like you. I don't care about you and I will not remember you when you are dead.

You can cry and crow about how much you win and defeat me but so what? So fucking what? You crushed a bug, aren't you mighty? Fuck off and get psychological help, kid. 

Oh and Adam Godwinson is a fictional character I created for my fiction. All you do when you identify yourself as such is look like a little kid in a halloween costume. Except I'm writing Adam Godwinson and I know what his fate is. You are trying to sound big and powerful by choosing as your avatar a character I control the fate of. Kind of undercuts anything you were going for there.

Yeah, I created the Farsh-nuke and the Farsh-nuke was once a divergent version of me but I moved past that as a writer. Get over yourselves.

All Good

Wednesday, 11 October 2017

Okay, What’s next?

Okay, What’s next?

Alexander Gordon Jahans

“He’s not going to stop.” said the Farsh-nuke as he entered the safe space.

“Yep...” The writer, dealing out a game of black jack for two players.

“Godwinson is obsessed.” said the Farsh-nuke as he took a seat.

“Not there.” said the writer when the Farsh-nuke tried to set before the opposite hand.

“Well who are you playing against?” asked the Farsh-nuke as he pulled up a different chair.

The writer stared across at the image of Adam Godwinson. “Nobody. It doesn’t matter.”

The Farsh-nuke grimaced then he shrugged. “He’s going to try and rape you. Rape your whole family. Every ally and asset of his in the whole multiverse will be devoted towards tormenting you.”

“I know...” said the writer as he studied his hand.

“He’s going to accuse you of bestiality, rape. If he could paint you as the devil he would.” said the Farsh-nuke with careful calmness. “He is so determined to prove to you that he owns you.”

The writer looked up at the Farsh-nuke. “I know. In his head I am his bitch.”

“And in yours?” asked the Farsh-nuke.

The Ghost of Godwinson smiled a toothy grin at the writer.

“I have bad days. Worse nights.” said the writer.

“How can you be so calm?” asked the Farsh-nuke. “Damn it! How are you not insanely fucking angry?”

“Because I can’t beat him.” said the writer. “Because he knows it. Because the coward can crush me like a twig when I don’t even know his real name or gender. For all I know Godwinson is that self same trans woman who decided I was not welcome in the feminist safe space I helped found.”

“Find him.” said the Farsh-nuke. “Goad him into revealing himself!”

“And do what?” asked the writer. “Kill him? Try to get him arrested? On what fucking evidence? No. He’s won he’s fucking won. I am beaten entirely.”

“Then what the fuck are you going to do?” asked the Farsh-nuke.

The writer rose from the table and walked over to a window. “I want to die. Right now. I really fucking want to die.”

The Farsh-nuke shook his head and rose to meet him. “You’re not going to kill yourself Alex. You have not endured so much to give it all up now.”

“No, you’re right, I’m not.” said the writer. He looked out over the city. “This doesn’t actually change anything. It kills dead some meagre naiive hope. It ensures that there will be more dark days ahead when Godwinson realises that he can never hope to win when it comes to my mind. It ensures that I will be investigated on bullshit charges at some point when the desperation of the pathetic and obsessed gets too much. As for me, now. It doesn’t change a fucking thing.”

Godwinson laughed.

“He will die, Farsh-nuke.” said the writer. “He will die as all mortal men must. He’s fucked me good and hard and he will continue to fuck me but I am still a writer and I have work to do.”

“He’ll get you fired from any job you try to get.” said the Farsh-nuke.

“I know.” said the writer with a shrug. “This isn’t a game or a dance or fucking courtship. This is a pathetic worm deciding to ruin my life. The good thing is, he can’t actually claim most of the credit. My parents did most of that.”

The Farsh-nuke laid a hand on the writer’s back. “So you’re going to write then?”

The writer grinned and he stared at Godwinson. “That cunt used my words to9 torture someone I respect greatly. I shall enjoy tormenting him in the pages of my fiction.”

The Farsh-nuke laughed. “Fucker doesn’t stand a chance.”

“And anyway. Like any nazi he’ll slip up and doom himself.” said the writer.

Godwinson stared at the writer. “You are my bitch and I will always defeat you!”

But the writer wasn’t listening.

“I said -!”

Godwinson heard a coughing sound.

He turned before him stood a beautiful woman with ice blue hair.

“Who the fuck are you?” asked Godwinson

A man in tweed jacket and a red bowtie stepped out of the shadows. “Congratulations Adam Godwinson, you have successfully attained immortality inside the mind of the writer!” The strange man clapped then he frowned. “Unfortunately you aren’t alone in here and we don’t like nazis much.”

The writer sipped a glass of whiskey with the Farsh-nuke as Godwinson stared to scream.

The End

Tuesday, 10 October 2017



An Adam Godwinson Story
Alexander Gordon Jahans

Forty Five Days. That’s how long you’re allowed to hold a terrorist suspect without trial.

Adam Godwinson had been good. I mean thick as two short planks at tactics but he wasn’t in the Raspberry Reich’s high command because of his military tactics. He was an Alpha God. A soul reading omniscient manipulative bastard. He played the keystreams like a fiddle, granting Raspberry victory after victory when Narrative law dictated that Nazis fail conveniently in the third act.

Except he still lost. Because every nazi loses in the end. Genocide is the ultimate debuff. Everybody turns on the genocidal in the end.

Forty Five long days at the hands of the SLF and the empire of Mirth. 45 days with the Bam-Kursh telling him exactly what the Farsh-nuke would do to the man who saw that he was tortured and raped. Forty Five days under the scrutiny of the champions of light. You could almost pity the man. Almost.

At last on the day the man who had played the game so right was ready to suffer an accident on the way to his trial, he received a visitor. The name understandably sent the hairs standing up on his back.

The Farsh-nuke entered in an unusually black cloak.

“Leave us.” commanded the Farsh-nuke.

“But sir!” cried the more senior guard.

“I think I can handle myself don’t you? Wait outside.” said the Farsh-nuke.

The senior guard studied the Farsh-nuke for a long moment then ushered the other guards out of the room.

Adam Godwinson lay chained and bruised on the floor.

“They’re going to kill you you know?” said the Farsh-nuke.

“So I keep hearing.” said Godwinson.

“I spoke with the writer by the way.” said the Farsh-nuke.

“Oh really?” asked Godwinson with half a chuckle. “I expect I am going to be made head of the Logicios and given a harem of submissive blondes.”

“Not really no.” said the Farsh-nuke dryly.

“No, I don’t suppose there would be.” said Godwinson.

“I believe his exact words were ‘Fuck that fucking fucker like the fucking tories fuck the fucking poor.’” said the Farsh-nuke.

“How marvellously eloquent? One wonders why he never got published?” said Godwinson.

“You convinced the world he had a fetish for fucking in baths of vomit then drove him to suicide in half a dozen universes.” said the Farsh-nuke.

Godwinson laughed. “I forgot about the vomit. You know the original plan was to use the recipe for the sylph cure. Really twist that knife.”

The Farsh-nuke stared at him. “You broke him.”

“Thank you, I did try...” said Godwinson magnanimously.

The Farsh-nuke was cold but he pulled out a quantum oscillator. “I came from Alex you know.  From that first pacifist...”

“The one with all the rules?” said Godwinson laughing. “What a pathetic cuck?”

“The Alex I know wouldn’t care how many worlds you burned, how many of his bones you broke.” said the Farsh-nuke activating the Quantum Oscillator.

Godwinson stopped laughing. “But I am his nemesis.”

“You are a plot device.” said the Farsh-nuke. “He wants me to kill you, to rape you, to turn you into a woman and brainwash you, because the revenge would make for a good story.”

“I told you he was a bad writer.” said Godwinson laughing again, but with hesitation in his voice.

“This is the command key to my ship.” said the Farsh-nuke, pulling a small septagonoid prism out of his pocket. “It’s fully automated. No sapient or sentient AI. Fly it. Disappear.”

“But what about the story?” asked Godwinson hysterically. “I matter to Alex. I have won. I reside in his consciousness forever -”

“You don’t matter.” said the Farsh-nuke dryly. “No body cares about you. Even if you came to his house, pulled out his his eyes, made him eat his tiny dick and raped him in the arse with a red hot poker, his thoughts would still be of how he failed the trans people. And no amount of horror on your part would change that.”

Godwinson stared. “But I crushed him! I defeated him!”

“And you still lose.” said the Farsh-nuke with a shrug. “So fuck off and fly into into a star for all I care. Or better yet. put the fucking bastard out of his misery. Kill the writer. You’ve still lost.”

“Burn the land and boil the sea, you can’t gain a victory!” crooned the Farsh-nuke as he walked away.

“But Alex cares about me.” said Godwinson as he stared at the command key. “I broke him. I am his master.”

Godwinson admitted everything at his trial. He was sentenced to death by gassing.

Raspberry Reich had lost as it was always meant to and the Freedom Collective reigned supreme. The Feminist utopia enveloping even the Logicio strongholds within their might. Soon the mname Godwinson was forgotten by all.

The End Of My Time On Youtube

The End Of My Time On Youtube

Alexander Gordon Jahans

I’m always amazed at how genial and amicable leaving notices are. Like you’ll see huge bust ups followed by a nice blog saying “So we decided to part ways...” and I never understood how the final break can be so quiet when it comes. Perhaps that ignorance and lack of publicity management is why I got to hear?

Except now I am hear, writing that message, and I’m not hot with rage. Perhaps it helps that I don’t have a face to focus my rage upon. You see I got annoyed at the American right crowing about freedom of speech and its importance when white nazis march in favour of genocide but disregarding that very same right when the government is preventing black men from peacefully protesting.

So I made a video where I tore up a print out of the American flag while parroting the American right slogans of “Freedom Of Speech Is Important.” “The left are special snowflakes.” I expected outrage. I expected American racists to rage importantly. Except instead someone decided that this was too far and he reported it as breaking community Guidelines. Now I found this ironic but I was willing to blame youtube for this so I made a video calling this out. That video was reported and I could not upload anymore.

Fine. I thought. Let it lie. Perhaps I went too far.

Except youtube operates a three strike system. Now the original video fair enough, I don’t like it but fair enough. The second video, really not cool but fair enough, literally the same subject matter. Then the third strike happened. On a vlog. A vlog about my many many problems and how I had been getting better. That was rather showing the hand of the person doing the reporting rather too much there.

I am angry. Except I’m also tired and defeated. I cannot be fucked to deal with this anymore. I already appealed the first two strikes so it’s possible that I could speak to a person and get the strikes removed but youtube has shown its own hand too.

Youtube has fucked over great creators many times and with the whole ad debacle thing and now this, I wasn’t making any money from them anyway and what good is a place to vent when obsessed nazis are desperate to see themselves as involved in a dialogue with you. For all I know this is just some sick fiuck’s idea of a joke. Lets fuck with a depressed autistic man. Such fun.  So no youtube isn’t worth it.

It’s kind of a cliche at this point to say that the moment has been prepared for but it really has. I even have a new name which the branding will go under. But no more videos, not unless I can share them to a very select group of vetted members. Heck there’s a good chance this blog itself might disappear.

The last three years have drained and broken me and I am done being stalked by fucking nazis. We need a viable alternative to youtube. We need an end to nazism and the Alt-Right but I am now just a consumer. My part in this is over. 

Freedom Of Speech Is Important

Saturday, 7 October 2017

Wrapping Up

Wrapping Up


Alexander Gordon Jahans

I haven’t had much to say because well much of what would go into a blog or a vlog is now going into my writing. The Golden Girl started off as a distraction fic inspired by a fetish story advertised on twitter and just one small part of the premise advertised at that. It has undergone a cerebus syndrome perhaps only matched by how the grand Scorpious arc of Farscape started off with an episode planned to be a clip show. The Farsh-nuke is coming back but he has psychological issues he needs to deal with and the great war between the Freedom Collective and the Raspberry Reich hangs in the balance and all focused on this one man, the person he focuses upon and the academy they choose to enrol at. Because what a story about the fetish of a man being turned into a woman really needs is an elder god angsting about upsetting trans people, lashings of cannibalism and a very weird take on the battle of Hogwarts with a Dumbledore who is most definitely not gay and most definitely evil as almighty sin.

Yeah... there’s a lot going on. I mean it’s 95,000 words and arc wise only a little way into act two. And since I know all that’s going to happen is people searching random terms and judging the whole from the snippets I’ll just say now that taken out of context this thing basically can be used to provide any kind of argument about whatever kind of evil you think I am. If you think I’m a white supremacist transphobic rapey cannabalistic misogynist then there are passages you can take out of context to “prove” that. If you think I’m a filthy virtue signalling guilt riddent white knight social justic warrior cuckold then you can argue that too. Hell I think you could even argue that I was both the devil and jesus and put whatever kind of spin on that you wanted.

A foot print does not look like a boot and if you are going to judge me and the work on one out of context scene in a story that is probably going to surpass a hundred thousand words, making it twice as long as almost anything else I have yet written, then I am not going to take that criticism seriously. All opinions are useful to somebody and I believe in death of the author but looking at scenes out of context as evidence of a while this large is like judging a work of art of a pixel, or a film of a few frames. You can tell some stuff sure. I admit I am a deeply flawed writer and perhaps when this is done I am really going to have to edit but judge the story as a story and me as a person, not me and the story off an essay calling me out, listing quotes taken out of context because there is always bias when you remove context and trust to the summary of a third party.

And perhaps that is why it is a hundred thousand words because holy fuck those are three long paragraphs to the effect of. “I’m not writing non-fiction because the fiction is taking up my energy”

Here’s the thing though. I am basically tying loose ends. Alpha Warriors is entirely one long first move in a literary game of chess and meant to be a new beginning but that is part of me tying up loose ends.

So tangent }~ The Hitchhiker’s Guide To The Galaxy has a gag about the meaning of life being 42. Except I now find great meaning in that because this is a machine that spent millions of years thinking to come up with an answer that was not good enough and the only way that machine can think to fulfil that purpose is to help design an even greater and more complex machine which will take even longer to arrive at the answer to the same question.

I have been running from the answer to a question that has been obvious to me for at least two years now. I have failed. I don’t know the way out of this mess I am in and I need to die. This is an answer I was running from before I even knew the details. I was just like “The next year is going to be tough, I need a constant reminder that I have to keep living no matter how tough it gets, I need a reminder that I can get through this.” and that was just when I thought my parents were arseholes and I thought it might be a bit hard to get a job.

2013 looks like a freaking utopian period of my life now. Before the nazis, before the psychological blow of friends coming out of the wood work to call me a dangerously transphobic monster then vanishing without an explanation, before I knew I had a tiny dick, before I knew I couldn’t have kids, before the pain, the tiredness and the pills, before being mindfucked by so many different people in such quick succession, before brexit and trump, before the economy slided into a despair so deep that my hopes of getting even a shitty job at ada look positively utopian now.

I have run from the knowledge that I could not see a way out for so long because I had to, because I was fighting fires, because I was doing research and using up options. I couldn’t take stock and be philosophical when my wounds were so fresh that I might well have stabbed myself in the chest and been done with it. How do you realise that you have failed so utterly that you need to become a different person entirely when clinging to who you are is quite literally the only reason you have not killed yourself?

Deep Thought was a great thinking machine and it failed. I consider my mind a construct of a thinking machine and I failed. Deep Thought outlined the next step and I am now finally finding the strength to take that next step.

That’s why I think I’m writing Alpha Warriors. Why I’m revisiting the Virgin New Adventures and Babylon 5 and Hannibal and Farscape. That’s why I’m writing the origins of the Great Farsh-nuke, fanwanky as they are. That’s why I’m bringing the Farsh-nuke back and addressing the trauma of the Laura Queen of Mirth Fanfic within the fiction. That’s why the founding of the United Civilisations and the Paragon’s journey through the Hundred Million Universes deserves to be touched upon.

You know I mentioned in a video once that I was putting off Farscape the Peace Keeper Wars because it was something I’d promised I’d get myself when I graduated and I didn’t want to tie that part of my life up. Some pathetic little prick in the comments laughed at the idea, at that weakness. How can these things be so important? Some men take great pride in being cruel sadistic callous pricks with uncomplicated psychologies. Such men may be thankful that I have rules against perpetrating cruelty and revenge.

Except it did matter to me. When a podcast finishes, or a tv show ends, that is huge for me. That is a great big. “Well what the fuck do I do with my life now.” The difference between then and now is that I am ready to bring things to an end.

I mean I am somewhat at a loss now I’ve caught up with the Audio Guide To Babylon 5 but that’s a different. It’s the difference between the finishing the last book from an author you love and finishing the last book from an author whose work defined your life when you were happy. I’m a gamer. I like to keep some really good stuff in reserve for a rainy day.

This is basically psychological media consuming equivalent of someone who can see war coming and decides that now is the time to crack out the best wine. I know that one way or another, preferably in the way that lets me keep living, Alexander Gordon Jahans, as an identity, has to die. The promise is no longer relevant. All Alexander Gordon Jahans is now is a target for nazis.

I have to change and adapt. I have to think differently, try new things and become a different person. I have to cut people out of my life who would keep pulling me back to that failed and broken identity. I have been so focused on survival that I accepted the excuses, that I accepted the differences of opinion. Here’s the thing. If you have been a cunt to me and you are likely to continue being a cunt to me I don’t need you in my life and I am not going to have you in my life. I have stared death in the face for so long and I’m not afraid anymore. I don’t care. I will cut ties to that dead part of me and no amount of societal obligation will change that.

I am trapped. I have an incredibly tiny amount of options available to me. I don’t need morons who know nothing of the shit I have been through in the last three years expressing empty gestures of advice. You know nothing so don’t condescend to me. Yes, I am trapped. No, I am not going to blindly do what I must to survive. We are beyond that now. I have no cards left to play. I have nothing left up my sleeve. I am out of options and all I have is time. I don’t know how much time but I have it and I am using it.

If your all powerful thinking machine can’t come up with a uself answer, build a better one. So that’s what I’m doing. Already, ideas that I would have instantly nitpicked to death are being more seriously considered. Because I have changed. I have had three years of testosterone now. Three years of walking miles first weekly then almost daily. Three years of learning politics and pop culture. I have been caught between divorcing parents. I have been stalked by nazis and psychologically destroyed by trans people who dropped a drama bomb then fucked off.

I am not the same man I used to be. This really is a kind of regeneration. This is physical, psychological, intellectual and experiential change.

I failed and I am a monster. There is no ambiguity here anymore. No imposter syndrome. I am, by my own standards, bad at writing and deeply problematic. I would hate me if I was a different person. I would consider myself a creepy misogynist. I mean I tried to write a piece about a non-binary elder god and her trans woman companion encountering the origin story of scifi wonder woman and the return of the literal devil and still I kept qwriting submissive white women into the story. My progressiveness is “Look there are black women being kept as pets now and black men owning white women.” Though there is a scene in Golden Girl where a man’s dick gets removed fried and eaten all while it is explicitly stated that due to scifi weirdness the man can feel everything. Almost equal opportunity character cruelty, that’s the peak of my in fiction shown social progressiveness.

And yes, I am very much reminded now of just how much suffering I am capable of wishing upon another, of how incredibly petty I can be. If I could set youtube to allow all comments but personally block everyone who tries to do so, I would, in a heartbeat. The raci9st moronic hypocrites have crowed about freedom of speech for so long that I would want to actually stop such commenters from ever being able to speak or type anything to anyone ever again. You used the word cuck so you get to enjoy a living hell of eternal silence.

And yeah, it does not end well for Adam Godwinson. Basically if you are a Nazi/Trump supporter you get to enjoy a strawman representation of you getting done to it what the trans people thought I did to the person they love and support.

It is kind of funny though, my dad said that I shouldn’t wait until the house is sold to do anything. As though I had anything I could do. I have no money. My online reputation is worse than destroyed. The economy is destroyed everywhere and at the moment I have actually fuck all to live for. I was keeping myself alive to at least get the people I cared about through the worst of the storm we’re in the midst of but morons who don’t understand my psychology successfully argued that my death could never happen at a good time or less terrible time and so... Well I’m not dying if I don’t have to and right now I have enough things I like but the only thing I have left is making myself a new. Is finding a reason worth slogging through the shit. Finding an ability to slog through the shit.

So I’m writing and I’m walking and currently I’m playing skyrim again and that is it.

Okay, that ended darker than I meant it to because this feels like a far more positive place for me mentally, I am starting to fumble my way through the confusion and become a different person who might yet survive this. I am just aware that everything is still shit despite that.