Collected Wisdom

Another aggregate of RSS-ness from sources we know and trust.

Load It Up, Lads…


Europe’s bankster class is behaving like a pack of spoilt children – boo fucking hoo, you prats… so the Frog populace has had a gutful of your little Frog Goblin-Dwarf “Mini-Me” Sarkozy. Get over it.


I’m buying Gold (at $1633), DAX (at 6595) and SPI (at 4337) – just for a dead-cat bounce from this pathetic over-reaction to the replacement of one Frog career-parasite with another.


Although there’s still some faint hope that the King of the Frog Dwarves might still pull his agates out of the fire, I must say… va te faire foutre, pauvre con.

Your handsome, beloved analyst

Less Than 20? Really?


OK, so I’m not sure if youse know this, but one of the mechanisms used by your Beloved GT to keep his geriatric mind sharp is to tutor the odd Uni stude. (Stude – pronounced ‘stewed’ – is CoPS-ese for a student).

I don’t tutor on behalf of the institutions themselves – I stopped doing that over a decade ago.

As youse are all aware, I am constitutionally incapable of putting up with bureaucracy – and the modern University is so infested with bureaucrats that it’s a wonder they haven’t ground completely to a halt under the weight of the bullshit.

Anyhoooo… your Beloved GT is something of a tutor ronin. No allegiances, no affiliations to any daimyo or shogunWakarimasu ka?

So… from time to time a suitable stude pops up, and I sign on to mould the mind.

The range of studes can be interesting: from first year Stats through to Honours and Masters’ Micro/Macro/Econometrics.

All who are admitted into the circle, can bask in the warm glow of your Beloved GT’s gentle genius. And it’s not hard to get in – be keen and show up.

Anyway: part of the sowing of wisdom is when I tell each and every one of them that there is, at the absolute maximum, 20 things you need to learn in order to get a First at Honours level in Economics and Econometrics (and then get straight Firsts at Masters’ coursework).


I kid you not. Armed with 20 tools and techniques, any person capable of getting in​ to a Uni Economics course, can get out with a First.

In fact it’s probably less than 20. It might be as few as 12 or 13.

Those 12 or 13 things aren’t “facts” – they are skills​. But those skills take less than an hour each to learn, and perhaps another hour or two each to really properly understand.

And if you’re not prepared to spend 26 hours (spread over a couple of years), absolutely grokking the fuck out of those things, you should resign yourself to mediocrity – because that’s where you’re headed.

The key things are almost all to do with being able to competently and easily handle the ‘alpha-getti’ smart-ass mathematical gymnastics that Economics has become (and to some extent is unavoidable in Econometrics).

I dislike alpha-getti when it’s not necessary, but here’s the thing – you stick that shit on an exam, and I will kick that exam’s arse,

The higher the proportion of alpha-getti bullshit on an exam, the more tumescent I become during reading time on exam day, because you can get that shit done quick, pocket the cheap marks, and leave yourself ages to do the hand-waving, waffly, essay questions.

And not to put too fine a point on it, people over-estimate your brilliance if your academic record is full of subjects whose titles say “Yeah, fucking bring me some numbers, and I will tear them up, yo”.

Well, they don’t over-estimate my​ brilliance. That would be impossible.

So anyhow – as a result of all this moulding of minds, I’ve accumulated a wee stash of crapola that I have prepared and distributed to past students (much like those old International Eco notes that I printed out in third year, that Ash used for years). It’s not fucking Khan Academy by any stretch (speaking of which – Salman Khan is a legend and a GOTI.. .God Of The Internet).

But notice this… no swearing. How can this be? I promise – read the intro from one of my ‘Primers’… completely free of the normally-liberal use of the Soldierly Vernacular.

GT Primer – Distributions P1 Read this.


Anyhow. Main point: 20 things – but maybe as few as 12 – are quite literally the difference between ‘star’ students (like Ditch and your Beloved GT) and the pack.

Of which, more later.

Your handsome, beloved analyst



Your Beloved GT is a simple creature when it comes to audiovisual entertainments – one of those guys who likes things to blow up, or for there to be a chance of side-boob, or fangs, or tentacles. Or stabbings, or exchanges of weapons fire. Or all of the above…

Or it has to be properly funny (wihout a fucking laugh track – I hate anything with a laugh track: it's supposed to make ME fucking laugh, you assholes). Also it has to not have Rowan Atkinson* or Jim Carrey in it.

(*exception: Blackadder II through IV. Everything else Atkinson has ever done is shit)

Speaking of sideboob and fangs and exchanges of gunfire…  the new Underworld movie: fairly awesome. 

Yeah the plotline is thin and the credits are 10 minutes long (who the fuck invented that shit?) but seriously Kate Beckinsdale is teh hawt. Her Dad was pretty too – he was in "Rising Damp" in the 70s (and "Porridge", too).

Movie-wise (in the mind of your Beloved GT) it is a 3-way tie between three franchises in the 'bodysuits and gunfire' genre: Underworld, Matrix and ResidentEvil.

Obviously Matrix gets pluses for having Keanu Reeves in it and for having the coolest sunglasses, but that is counterbalanced by the minuses for being a thinly disguised Jesus narrative. As for the Resident Evil franchise… Milla Jovovich is awesome on stilts and doesn't even need a latex bodysuit, but the plotlines are repetitive and predictable and silly (but I will still watch the new one).

But I'm digressing, dear Reader… because that's not why I've gathered you here.

I just watched the pilot of Awake and it doesn't meet any of the criteria  mentioned above. Little or no boob (front or side), no explosions, and only the slightest amount of violence. Not a fang or tentacle in the whole thing.

But it is a really well-crafted and (dare I say it?) sophisticated piece of work. If the writers continue to develop the "Schrodinger's Cat" lietmotif (where the lead character struggles with the possibility that his actions could collapse a wave function) and the inner tension in the central character as a result, they really do stand a chance of creating a series on a par with "Walking Dead", "Dexter", "Oz" or "The Wire" (my fave non-sci-fi or cartoon shows).

Two things rankle though: both are functions of American youth-obsession rather than the show itself.

First: the lead character has a superb and manly face (quite like Daniel Craig), but he looks like someone dipped him in a bucket of Just For Men. It's clear from his teeth and skin that he's a smoker, and I bet that under the silly black-dyed hair he sports more grey than your Beloved GT. He's supposed to be a detective of some experience – which would send you grey. So does the character dye his har like a sissy faggot, or is it simply unrealistic?

Second: his wifey-character is half his age. She's lovely and all, but it's dumb to have someone play a wifey role where she's only about 5 years older than her putative son.

Anyhow – when it hits these shores, be sure and have a look at it. It shits all over some of the other dreck that is being shoved down our throats ("Person of Interest", "Alcatraz" and shit like that).

Obviously it's not "Archer" or "American Dad" or "Futurama" or "Ren & Stimpy" – which is to say that it's not unadulterated genius. But it really could be a live-actor show that's worth watching.

This? Perfect.



In any dispute between a citizen and the government, it is my instinct to side with the citizen. I am against bureaucrats, policemen, wowsers, snouters, smellers, uplifters, lawyers, bishops and all other sworn enemies of the free man. I am against all efforts to make men virtuous by law. I believe that the government, practically considered, is simply a camorra of incompetent and mainly dishonest men, transiently licensed to live by the labor of the rest of us. I am thus in favor of limiting its powers as much as possible, even at the cost of considerable inconvenience, and of giving every citizen, wise or foolish, right or wrong, the right to criticize it freely, and to advocate changes in its constitution and personnel…the very commonest of common men has certain inalienable rights.

H.L. Mencken (who else?)

Help Assange BY ACTION


My take on the silly "Open Letter to Kevin Rudd", which is trying to get help for Julian Assange – from the short-ass parasitic maniac who grinned like a psychopathic accountant when he learned that an Indonesian accused had been killed without trial:

When will people larn that relying on political parasites to defend individual rights, is nonsense? Might as well PRAY for all the good it will do.


Here’s something that would guarantee Assange’s safety: make it clear to anyone who participates in some stupid theatrical ‘legal’ set-piece that deprives Assange of his liberty, that they will never, for the rest of their lives, be able to “tell pale-hearted fear it lies, and sleep in spite of thunder”.


That goes for the robed geriatrics in their 16th century costumes, the badged and constumed jailers etc (who Thoreau rightly placed on a par with straw or lumps of dirt); everyone who participates.


Reliance on politicians – when the state is clearly showing itself neither capable nor willing to do anything except tend to its own malignant metastasis – is flat-out dopey.


Mencken wrote famously that there comes a time when a reasonable man has to hoist the black flag and start slitting throats; Diderot made it clear that man will be free when the last king (politician) is strangled ith the entrails of the last priest (or judge). We are there, folks: they have thrown taxes – collected by force -onto a bonfire in order to make their financiers a minute amount more rich. They are NOT here to help.

Bet that doesn't get past the 'moderation' phase… which is good, because we are past the point where being 'moderate' helps.

Priceless… Unhinged Tribal Lunacy

I'm not a big fan of jack Black (although Tenacious D can be funny at times), but the clip below from Year One captured perfectly the absolute preposterous fucking lunacy behind Red Sea Pedestrianism.

Now before we get to the clip itself, let's try to put this into some context.

Take a look at this picture – of a patch of sky the size of a fingernail. There are tens of thousands of galaxies in that little area.

Tiny Patch of Sky

Each galaxy contains hundreds of billions of stars: that fingernail-sized piece of sky contains (roughly) a quintillion stars. And it's less than 1/1000th of the total sky.

Now… the world's 3 major religions would have you believe that from all that, a lone Mesopotamian goatherd (who was incestuously married to his half-sister) was decreed to be God's Chosen… in exchange for cutting bits of the penises of every male child, in perpetuity.

Get that through your skull: from (at least) several sextillion stars, "Hashem" decided that mastery would be granted to some nomadic Iron Age sister-fucker… so long as he committed to sexually mutilating his offspring.

That, dearest Reader, is among the most fucked-up things upon which you could ever base a 'religion'.

So yuk it up at the clip, by all means – but internalise what it means at root: anytime someone says you have to show 'respect' for religion, you are being told that you have to support child genital mutilation. (And I have deliberately not touched on the path of genocide, theft, double-crossing and bad faith that took place during Exodus… that is for later, as is some of the really vile stuff from the Midrash and/or the Babylonian Talmud… you could not find more ignorant nonsense if you tried to make it up yourself).


And now the clip… for the purposes of criticism (it's good).


I Think I Maked Up A Word (Two, Actually)


I have long been annoyed with the word 'anarchist' – in part because it evokes the idea of being against 'arché' – order – when in fact it seeks to get rid of 'kratos/kraté' – State, power, War.

Arché will emerge spontaneously – it is not a bad thing in and of itself. Differentials in talent and application will lead to different outcomes and differentials in social order.


Anyway – the other day I was writing a comment about how the iCult sees itself as iconoclastic when in fact it is far more like the iconodules in its hagiography of all things Apple.


That got me to thinking (always a bad move). I'm a big fan of Norwich's History of Byzantium… and for a good chunk of Byzantine history, there was a set of dichotomies (blues vs greens, iconoclasts vs iconodules) that were encouraged by rival factions – and they began as groups of supporters of different teams of chariot racers.

Now 'iconoclast' and 'iconodule' are, respectively, breakers and worshippers of idols (eikonos). Klastes means 'breaker'; doulos means worshipper.

Now… what we want, is to rid ourselves of compulsion to support kratos and kraté; to the extent required, we will seek actively to break that power. Hence, kratoclast.

Opposed to us are people who actively support the involuntary nature of the relationship of human beings to the State. They are kratodules.

The State is evil – it is the proximate cause of all wide-scale death and destruction. Hence a kratoclast is also – almost always – a poneroclast (poneros – evil).

Kratodules may consider themselves poneroclasts, but given the evil that States perpetrate, they are always – perhaps unwitting – ponerodules.

So if you see the words poneroclast, kratoclast, and derivatives… I invented them. YAY!


Lastly: grand kudos to Anonymous, LulzSec and Operation: Empire State Rebellion… the IMF got hacked. They wre warned that it was coming, but they were unable to prevent it.

A genuine kratoclastic, poneroclastic action.

Rage, Rage Against the Dying of the Light…


OK, so here's the thing.

For some time now, your Beloved GT has had to – ahem – prioritise things other than the prefatory waffling that you always knew and loved.

As a result, there has been a certain 'dried up dogshit' flavour to the Rants for some time – the absence of twice-daily steaming mind-grogans has been a definite negative. The Rant-engine has been on auto-pilot and as a result it has been producing a rather mawkish stool… all numbers and tables and whatever-the-fuck.

That changes now, bitchez.

I've been going progressively crazier during my absence: from now on I am going to just fucking unleash the madness. 

When I say 'madness', I don't mean the sort of cartoon bullshit madness that is the life-essence of fucktards like Hannity and Palin and Huckabee and Netanyahoo and the rest of the primitive insane tribal motherfuckers.

The shit here – profanity laced and all – will be so fucking sharp you better not let it get near your pants or it will cut your dick clean off. Right the fuck off, and you won't feel it go – first you will even know is when you start to feel faint and notice a wet warmth in your groin.


The profanity is part of the thing; I and others are making it our personal fucking mission to move the language-ball.

We figure that the way to destroy the hate-capacity of various pejoratives, is to use the fuck out of them until they become meaningless. (And we're right, so if you think of objecting shut your fucking pie-hole).

So 'nigger', 'kike', 'gook'… 'faggot'… and especially 'retard' – all will fall by the wayside from over-use (the way 'anti-Semite' has been debased – these days all it does is help identify tribal lunatics… those who say it).

Retard redneck fuckwits will have to find out some other way to fling shit out of their cages.

So words will no longer mean what they mean:

  • 'shit' does not mean poo or grogan or bowel movement or stool; it just means 'this thing that I am talking about now'.
  • 'fuck' does not mean 'copulate' or 'have sex with' or anything like that. It just means 'the shit I just said? I totally fucking meant it';
  • 'bitch' does not mean a female dog or a woman of any sort – it has no gender. It's just someone who needs to shut the fuck up.
  • 'faggot' does not mean a homosexual or an ass-bandit or a poo-pusher; it just means someone who is bullshitting and risks being fucked up.

and so on… you know what I mean, bitch.


So anyway… this will help get rid of the chaff – the weak-ass bitches and faggots who care more about the politeness of a conversation than they do about whether or not they are implicitly supporting a fucking atrocity.

Anyone who objects to the word 'fuck' as obscene, but is not actively agitating to stop the political class from killing innocents, can go fuck themselves.

Once those faggots are gone, we can talk about useful shit – technology, human advancement, some super-interesting political shit.

And markets, obviously – you will see directional calls that will blow your fucking mind.


Of course, it's mostly going to be shit that conforms to my prejudices, but often I will use the opposing (stupid) viewpoint to introduce the topic.

With that by way of introduction, here's a forewarning of what I plan to write about tomorrow (or maybe in today's OzRant):

Our prevailing hypothesis here in mentatSpace is that the broad outlines of technological process on any other putative world, would be the same as they were here on Earth.

That has implications. We humans are about one generation away from becoming 'posthuman'; strong AI and so on will mean we would no longer require our fleshbags: they are inefficient, badly designed, and vulnerable to any conditions outside of a very narrow range (we die if it's too hot or cold, too wet or dry, too much radiation… and so on).

The important thing is the mind; that's where your personality is. The meatbag is a vehicle that enables the mind to feed itself from its surroundings; the mind will be able to to stored in microscopic AIs in due course, and will be able to be housed in much smaller, more robust and energy-efficient housings.

We will achieve post-fleshbag civilisation way before we achieve reliable manned insterstellar (or even interplanetary) spaceflight. When we are able 'to boldly go where no man has gone before' we will do it in nanoscopic vehicles that are mind-blowingly efficient… we won't have to worry aboutsituations in which Sulu (or Worf, or Rodney, or Rush) says 'shields are down to 35% – atmosphere is venting on decks 9 through 12' or any other such TV nonsense.

Now… if that's the case for us, it has some corollaries.

It is not sensible to think that ETs would have retained their fleshbags when there is a logical case for replacing them as soon as technically feasible. 


Aliens would become 'post-alien' before they developed reliable repeatable interplanetary flight, and so if they were ever to visit it would be in nano-scopic AI-capable vehicles.

The result of this is that anybody who talks about visitations by alien life forms who go around in fleshbags, is probably bullshitting or doesn't understand the interaction.


And here's where it gets insane… post-alienism also probably means that they could interface directly with the mind of any entity they chose to.

Voices in your head, bitch. (note – most voices in your head are still just lunacy… but some aren't)

If you are interested, get hold of a copy of "Transcendent Man", which is mostly about Ray Kurzweil (but contains loads of alternative viewpoints too); at the end he describes a process whereby post-human society sends nanobots with AI out into space, 'waking up the universe'. The universe has already had a few billion years head start… odds are that once we become aware enough, we will discover we are already awash in post-alien nanotech.


Seriously, that is a topic that would roast your brain if you had ever used DMT.

Why Voluntaryism? MUST WATCH…


The video below is 4 minutes long and gives the perfect explanation of why voluntaryists (like your Beloved GT) think that the 'social contract' is a hypocritical cover for cowardice and theft. Its non-hectoring, balanced tone helps get the message across.

Find ONE SECOND of “Narcissism”… (STICKY)


[Update: for those unfamiliar with the term "sticky" – it has nothing to do with the state of your underpants or mine. It means that the post in question will stick to the top of the page, and each day's globs of rant-y self-promoting ooze will appear below it.]

The Yank media – full of fellators-of-power – have tried repeatedly to paint Townsville-Boy-Made-Good Julian Assange as tetchy, irascible and narcissistic; I insist that anyone who thinks that, views the 22-minute mini-doco embedded below…

What did you see? You saw a gentle, polite, modest man with a quiet determination to add value to humanity.

Nobody who actually knows Julian Assange, has a single bad word to say about him. If you hear otherwise, they're selling something.

Australians should be ashamed today for two despicable acts perpetrated in our collective name by the political class who sponge off our taxes. 


The first is the vile, racist 'border security' bullshit: while we permit capital to flow across borders like water or air, we refuse to permit free ingress of people who wish to make a new life in this country. That policy – denying people the chance at a better life – is directly responsible for the deaths at sea today of a bunch of folks seeking to make a new life. It is reprehensible, shameful, racist and deplorable: every country should be glad to have risk-taking, aspirational folks coming through the doors.

The second is the failure of the political class to protect the most important Australian since Simpson and his donkey. I am reminded of the famous threat issued by Teddy Roosevelt – "Perdicaris alive or Raisuli dead" – when a US citizen of vastly lower importance than Assange was kidnapped in 1904.

If our "Kath&Kim" Prime Minister was fit for the role, she would have threatened to declare fucking WAR on England if they did not return our lad back to this wide brown land.

I am anti-war, as youse all know: but in this man, Australia has an equal to Paine, Proudhon, Diderot or Voltaire. 

Plus, we could take England in half an hour: we would just need to wait until "X Factor" or "Dancing with the Stars" was on.

Go to Top