spamming is fun. designated thread to do it in sounds like fun. so post w/e(following rules ofc).
P p h t h r e a d?
Let's talk about magic my dudes.
r u a wiccan? (((datamining)))
Nah just saw this was a magic symbol for Vikings regarding invincibility. What's a Wicca? (((datamining)))
wicca is the word that 'witch' derives from afaik. and a catagory of magic. I've seen a symbol like that related to time magic, it had a pentagram on it i think. i could never find it, it was on some kind of old-style plain html(no css) site. rly weird.
i can draw the symbol as much as i remember it if youd like
I'd very much appreciate a drawing. Did the site talk about any specific ritual related to the symbol? (((datamining)))
LOOOOOOOOOLLLLLLLLLLLL NIGGER NIGGGER NIGGER NIGGER PENIS JEW JEW JEW JEW JEW JEW JEW JEW XDDD
BIOLOGY SAYS GAY=NOT OKAY SCIENTIFIC FACT LOOK IT UP OKAY
“Administer ze fart inductor!” the gay Hauptsturmführer shouted to his men. Marie was helpless to resist as the leather-clad men violently grabbed her and clamped the device around her posterior. She was now firmly attached to the gas chamber, from which the groans of trapped Jews emanated, and she could tell by the tightness that an airtight seal existed between her anus and the gas chamber.
“Ready to start!” one of the Hauptsturmführer’s subordinates shouted to him. For a brief time, he glanced about furtively, ensuring that everything was in order. Then, seemingly assured that everything was truly ready, his face contorted into an expression of pure schadenfreude as he gave the order. “Start ze fart inductor!”
Marie shuddered violently as the device switched on. She couldn’t begin to understand its internal workings owing to its kraut space magic nature, but she could make out a rising tone coming from inside the device, and she noticed that the pressure within her belly grew as the tone increased in volume. She had been fed nothing but the most fart-inducing vegetables for the prior week and she had a massive pent-up fart on the way. She suddenly realized the officer’s plan: he wanted her to fart into the chamber and gas all the jews inside! She clenched her anus shut and tried to hold the fart in, but the pressure was so high and growing by the minute. Soon, her sphincter could resist no longer, and a jet of high pressure gas escaped, pushing apart the ring and clearing the way for the rest of the gas.
“BRAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP,” her fart rang out into the collector and down the tube. The pressure of the fart ensured that it reached the jews within the chamber still moving at supersonic speeds, and the ones that weren’t killed by the overpressure began groaning as the extremely pungent aroma hit them. An average gas chamber would have muffled the noises of their torment, but the brilliant engineers at Krupp had found a way to overcome this obstacle so the Marie could hear their cries. “Gurgle,” went Marie’s stomach. Oh no, another fart was coming!
“BRRRRRRPFTTFTTFTFTFTFPPPPPPPPP” came from the chamber as the fart, much more powerful this time, expanded into the accumulator and down the tube. This was followed by several Oy Veys came from within the chamber. Marie wished she could help them because of her PC lesbian MSM-world view, but she was powerless to. The fart inductor was forcing her to fart. She could feel another one building, the biggest one yet in fact. She could also tell that it would be the most pungent, as it was welling up from the depths of her intestines.
The gas bubble shot up her descending colon before turning the corner and exploding out of her anus. The lips of her anus flapping together no longer made a sound of “BRAAAP,” as the pressure was too great. She had transcended human nature, as this fart was far too powerful for a body unaided by superior German engineering. The sound it made was more akin to what would be found Burzum album as it exploded out of her anus. Soon after, the gas impinging on the fart accumulator plate ignited due to the pressures involved, producing a detonation wave in the tube. The Chapman-Jouget condition quickly spread rearward to her anus while the flow of combusting gas rapidly spread down the tube and into the gas chamber, simultaneously gassing AND burning all the Jews inside.
Unfortunately, the tube couldn’t contain the detonation for long and violently failed after only a few seconds, which was shortly followed by the failure of the fart accumulator, causing it to detach from Marie’s posterior. The thrust produced by her combusting fart would have carried her away had she not been anchored in place. It took a few seconds for the fart to subside, the detonation front collapsed, and Marie and the SS officers were left stunned by what had just happened.
The Hauptsturmführer was the first to speak up. “Brilliant! Not only have we invented a new combination gassing-disposal method, but we have also found a new propulsion system for V-2 Superweapon!” “Iron Cross for everyone!” The men cheered as the exhausted Marie may there in the restraints, her butthole now slightly shocked by the cool September air. A few meters away, the Hauptsturmführer was feeling nothing but pure joy knowing that he had vanquished so many undesireables from the world tonight. Hopefully, in time, this strange squid girl would come to appreciate their cause as well.
Yeah it did. There was some kind of time-related spiritual being(I can't remember if it was a diety or a demon or what), and it talked of a color supposedly seen by wizards. Very weird.
As far as I remember the symbol was somewhat similar to this drawing(in concept. my art skills are shit so ofc not litterally similar, but all the attempted features of the drawing that i remember are hopefully communicated well enough). I'm probably leaving out extra details :/.
the shape is something you would draw in the air as your saying the provided sentence. it would 'expand' or 'contract' time. Or your perception of time. something like that.
Cool beans mang I appreciate the effort and semi instruction. Hopefully I don't warp the fuck out of my psyche attempting this.
counting to ten:
s e v e n
In the early hours of the morning of August xx, 20xx, an alarm clock switched on and began to flood a dark room with its buzzing.
This was slightly strange, because an old-fashioned alarm clock was a rather strange sight these days. Most preferred a more natural, voice-based intelligent wakeup call.
Even stranger was the odd tone of the alarm. It was worn-out, weary, it buzzed and crackled, the tone oscillated back and forth. It seemed as though the speaker would blow at any second.
Like everything else in the room, the alarm was far older than it should have been. Indeed, far older than anybody would expect.
Presently, a man, the only occupant of the room, and seemingly unfazed by alarm's subtle malfunctions, groggily flailed his hand over to the alarm and turned it off.
The motion was obviously practiced, but given his half-asleep state, it was much less fluid than it otherwise should have been.
The man blinked the sleep from his eyes and stared at the dark ceiling, lit only in swathes of stray light from the streetlamps below.
He was waking up, collecting his thoughts, but most importantly, trying to process the enormity of the day that lay ahead.
He rose from his bed with a start, and strode across the vast, largely empty room towards the door, under which light was already shining.
Save for the bed and a single nightstand, the only other piece of furniture in the room was a small nighstand at the far end.
There were no picture frames, no books, nothing except for the bare minimum required for sleeping. Whoever this man was, he certainly didn't spend much time here.
He clasped his hand around the cold metal of the doorknob, sighed for a moment, and turned. He carefully and precisely tugged the door open and brought it through its entire range of travel,
carefully stopping it just next to the adjacent wall.
With a look of grim determination on his face, he strode out into the hallway.
"Good morning, Miles," came a distant, unnaturally cheery voice from the room beyond the hallway.
Miles sat at the single-person table in the middle of his kitchen, chugging down his coffee and glancing over the morning briefing that Susan had prepared for him.
The coffee seemed to have done him well, as he was much more animated than he was before and his face had tranfigured itself from the tired visage of before to the confident, self-assured face he always
wore in professional situations. He had finished reading his morning briefing, custom-composed by Susan only seconds before he sat down to read it.
Susan - that was his AGI assistant, was kind of forced uopn him by the position he was in. He didn't exactly like an AGI listening to his every sound, as he had somewhat of a phobia of AGIs.
Nevertheless, the efficiency multiplier it represeneted was sort of necessary for performing his duties effectively. And that was the one area in which he wasn't going to sacrifice quality.
Still, there were some compromises he could make, like configuring her to operate in interrogative-only mode.
He glanced up at the clock and saw that he was 10 minutes ahead of schedule, so he decided to check on something first.
"Susan," he said with the tone one uses when the person they're addressing already knows the question ahead, can you get me the latest news on G-200? (((datamining)))
"Of course, Mr. XXXXXXXXXXXX, came the unnaturally-calm voice from across the room. He stared into the display waiting for it to load until… What? (((datamining))) no, this isn't what me meant.
"No, Susan, not general news, internal reports on it"
The image on the screen quickly flashed over to the one he had meant. He typed in his PIN and waited for it to pull everything over.
He almost felt dirty after seeing the popular news results. Mainstream "news," or at least what passed for it these days, was a veritable flurry of all sorts of pointless information. Most of it wasn't true, and even when it
was, was only half-true, but that didn't matter. All that mattered was whether or not it drew people's attention. And some of the greatest AGIs in the world were working in 100-strong teams to this end.
There was so much raw information today that one could spend a lifetime consuming it. And that was exactly what a huge group did. The UBI-consuming, AGI-managed, Social media-using, 4-hour workday, mulatto consumer underclass.
Miles shivered. He felt dirty for even looking at some of the same things they would.
I prefer sperm threads tbh
Noice user… very very tasty