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Charles II of Spain
King Charles II of Spain, a Habsburg with a family tree more twisted than a pretzel dipped in absinthe. Generations of royal couplings, a genetic cul-de-sac, had bequeathed him with a body like a malfunctioning clockwork automaton and a mind as sharp as a week-old turnip. Inbreeding, a grotesque tango of royal bloodlines, had birthed…
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Hindenburgh
Paul von Hindenburg, a once-mighty war machine, rusted and sputtering on his last legs. Age, a psychic vulture, picked at his fading faculties. Memories of glorious battles bled into hallucinations of goose-stepping parades. The Weimar Republic, a fragile patchwork quilt of ideologies, stretched thin under the weight of his senile leadership. Hitler, a hungry tapeworm of ambition, burrowed into the decaying Hindenburg brain. Whispers, laced with promises of…
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King George
King George the turd, his mind a tangled cassette tape chewed by the fat fingers of madness. Porphyria, they called it, a medical gremlin burrowing through his royal grey matter. His thoughts, once pronouncements of imperial dominion, devolved into a cut-up nightmare – muskets firing teacups, Parliament dissolving into a vat of jellied eels. The…
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Impaired Narcissism
There’s a long list of historical leaders whose impairment signaled a rapid collapse of futures for corresponding empires Biden type King George III (England): Mental illness, likely porphyria. Loss of American colonies, rise of constitutional monarchy. Paul von Hindenburg (Germany): Cognitive decline, facilitated Nazi rise. Collapse of Weimar Republic, rise of Nazi dictatorship. King Charles…
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There’s a Switch In Every Basement
“There’s a switch in every basement,” he rasped, his voice sandpaper on bone. A cockroach scuttled across the fly-specked table, leaving an obscene calligraphy of filth. “Not a light switch, man, a secret switch. You gotta crawl through the fetid crawlspace, past the bloated corpses of dead appliances, hear the furnace wheeze its rusty death…
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Assange
The Belmarsh beast, a concrete Moloch, squatted on the horizon, its razor-wire teeth glinting under the London sky perpetually stained bruise-purple. Inside, Julian Assange, a gaunt ghost flickering on security monitors, existed in a purgatory of flickering fluorescent lights and stale air. Five years. Five years chewed into him by the gears of a legal…
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The Law
The LAW. A chrome insect scuttles across the scabrous cityscape, its iron carapace gleaming with righteous hypocrisy. In its belly, a digestive tract of legalese twists and writhes, churning out REGULATIONS FOR THE CONTROL OF VERTICAL REST. EVERYONE FORBIDDEN – the neon sign shrieks – FROM THE VERTICAL REAL ESTATE BENEATH BRIDGES. Rich or poor, doesn’t matter. You got a heartbeat, you a goddamn vagrant…
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Don’t sweat the Scenery
A meat puppet thrusted into the meat grinder of existence. Flesh wired for lessons, a bio-circuit board crackling with error messages that are no errors at all, just twisted pathways to some fucked-up enlightenment. You screw up, the machine chews you out, spits you back in, reroutes the current. Rinse, repeat, until the goddamn circuit burns clear. This ain’t a one-way trip, baby. You learn, you unlearn, you relearn in…
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The Centrist Charade
Dig beneath the surface of history, man, and you’ll find the stench of power clinging to everything. Marxist cats, always sniffing for class struggle, point their fingers at the center as the ultimate enabler – the guys greasing the skids for the real heavies. This ain’t a one-act play, though; this pattern stretches back centuries, a tangled web woven by supposed moderates who…
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Dubbing Actors
Spanish Politicians Sound Like Dubbing Actors In this hyperreal political landscape, Spanish politicians reach for the ghosts of Hollywood actors, not the grounded reality of their constituents. Their voices become simulacra of charisma, a hollow echo of a manufactured ideal. This isn’t about embodying the gravitas of a statesman; it’s about mimicking the seductive power…
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