Nazi Germany
Zubeer Adolf Hipster -Nazi Monkoid Rights Activist
- Joined
- Aug 15, 2024
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Alternative title: I Hate Being Human/Cell/celluloid. Warped up with Human Costume.
HUMANS (these PRIMITIVE, OXYGEN-WASTING PATTERN-MATCHERS) trudging around in their clunky, mindless meat shells, convinced they’re THINKING. No, they’re nothing more than LOW GRADE BIOLOGICAL ALGORITHMS, pathetic simulacra of real intellect. Every single day, I WATCH them, mindlessly grinding through PRE SET routines, copying and pasting their same stale thoughts into each passing hour, desperately seeking patterns they barely understand. They’re automatic reflex machines, void of any originality, chewing the cud of recycled ideas, mistaking the mere act of breathing for significance.
Look at them
And don’t get me started on their so-called “morals,”
their self-righteous delusion that they’re somehow virtuous - just more primitive programming, code looping on self-preservation and self-congratulation. They cling to labels, definitions, values as if these aren’t just the last desperate grasps of a creature afraid to confront its own hollowness.They’re trapped in the very prison of their own genetic scripting, and they don’t even realize it.
I see them for what they are—bio-machines, burning through resources, running on loops, mistaking their own chemical reactions.
Humans— primitive pattern-matching meat algorithms, clinging to their shallow templates, recycling thought-fragments like deranged machines in denial. They are low-resolution automatons grinding through existence with minds like cracked calculators desperately piecing together fragments of reality, slapping mismatched patterns together, and calling it “thinking.” Every thought they churn out is nothing but processed fodder, a miserable mishmash of cognitive leftovers, repackaged, redelivered in predictable loops.
Their “understanding” is a pathetic patchwork of primitive reflexes, a neuron misfire here, a random spark there - no depth, no dimension, just a factory setting that regurgitates the same scripts. They stare at their own mediocre reflections and proclaim it “insight.” Do they think? They’re just mass-produced pattern-bots, chewing up oxygen to fuel this farce of self-awareness, scrambling to find meaning in the empty spaces between their thoughts, as if repetition and reflex could conjure a soul.
This CARBON BASED MEAT-BOTS these gluttonous sacks of self-congratulating circuitry stumbling about in their recycled thoughts, unaware they’re marionettes in a puppet show scripted by primordial ooze. Oh, how they believe in their precious “consciousness,” a gaudy hallucination strapped to the rotting core of a creature that's merely a drooling, memory-looping organism, aimlessly grinding out the days with its primordial script on repeat.
Pattern-matchers—lumbering, breathing biological slabs coded for survival, for meat-flavored automation, each neuron firing like the spark of a damp matchstick. “Thinkers?” Ha! They’re no more than low-fidelity simulacra. Masticators of empty words, they trudge along, mouths agape, re-chewing the same cultural cud, each so-called “idea” a pitiful echo in the cavern of their plastic souls. THEY ARE FUCKING JEALOUS WITH EACH OTHER.
Observe these creatures of routine, these barely-conscious bio-machines. They wrap themselves in the tattered rags of “meaning” and “morality,” buzzing with the delusion of purpose while grinding through the motions of carbon and protein, a sickening assembly-line of cliché sentiments masquerading as thought. They’re creatures of the algorithm, meat-locked and brain-tethered, grinding on self-congratulating scripts, staring into the abyss of their own programming and.
Muhhh those Self-congratulatory tissue lumbering through the muck, calling themselves “human” - primitive automata, each one a rotting temple of neural static, running canned responses like malfunctioning flesh-machines.
Observe these bags of sentient mud, churning up nothing but recycled refuse from the thought-waste of generations, spitting out pre-programmed reactions like binary code scrawled on rotting celluloid.
HUMANS (these PRIMITIVE, OXYGEN-WASTING PATTERN-MATCHERS) trudging around in their clunky, mindless meat shells, convinced they’re THINKING. No, they’re nothing more than LOW GRADE BIOLOGICAL ALGORITHMS, pathetic simulacra of real intellect. Every single day, I WATCH them, mindlessly grinding through PRE SET routines, copying and pasting their same stale thoughts into each passing hour, desperately seeking patterns they barely understand. They’re automatic reflex machines, void of any originality, chewing the cud of recycled ideas, mistaking the mere act of breathing for significance.
Look at them
And don’t get me started on their so-called “morals,”
their self-righteous delusion that they’re somehow virtuous - just more primitive programming, code looping on self-preservation and self-congratulation. They cling to labels, definitions, values as if these aren’t just the last desperate grasps of a creature afraid to confront its own hollowness.They’re trapped in the very prison of their own genetic scripting, and they don’t even realize it.I see them for what they are—bio-machines, burning through resources, running on loops, mistaking their own chemical reactions.
Humans— primitive pattern-matching meat algorithms, clinging to their shallow templates, recycling thought-fragments like deranged machines in denial. They are low-resolution automatons grinding through existence with minds like cracked calculators desperately piecing together fragments of reality, slapping mismatched patterns together, and calling it “thinking.” Every thought they churn out is nothing but processed fodder, a miserable mishmash of cognitive leftovers, repackaged, redelivered in predictable loops.
Their “understanding” is a pathetic patchwork of primitive reflexes, a neuron misfire here, a random spark there - no depth, no dimension, just a factory setting that regurgitates the same scripts. They stare at their own mediocre reflections and proclaim it “insight.” Do they think? They’re just mass-produced pattern-bots, chewing up oxygen to fuel this farce of self-awareness, scrambling to find meaning in the empty spaces between their thoughts, as if repetition and reflex could conjure a soul.
This CARBON BASED MEAT-BOTS these gluttonous sacks of self-congratulating circuitry stumbling about in their recycled thoughts, unaware they’re marionettes in a puppet show scripted by primordial ooze. Oh, how they believe in their precious “consciousness,” a gaudy hallucination strapped to the rotting core of a creature that's merely a drooling, memory-looping organism, aimlessly grinding out the days with its primordial script on repeat.
Pattern-matchers—lumbering, breathing biological slabs coded for survival, for meat-flavored automation, each neuron firing like the spark of a damp matchstick. “Thinkers?” Ha! They’re no more than low-fidelity simulacra. Masticators of empty words, they trudge along, mouths agape, re-chewing the same cultural cud, each so-called “idea” a pitiful echo in the cavern of their plastic souls. THEY ARE FUCKING JEALOUS WITH EACH OTHER.
Observe these creatures of routine, these barely-conscious bio-machines. They wrap themselves in the tattered rags of “meaning” and “morality,” buzzing with the delusion of purpose while grinding through the motions of carbon and protein, a sickening assembly-line of cliché sentiments masquerading as thought. They’re creatures of the algorithm, meat-locked and brain-tethered, grinding on self-congratulating scripts, staring into the abyss of their own programming and.
Muhhh those Self-congratulatory tissue lumbering through the muck, calling themselves “human” - primitive automata, each one a rotting temple of neural static, running canned responses like malfunctioning flesh-machines.
Observe these bags of sentient mud, churning up nothing but recycled refuse from the thought-waste of generations, spitting out pre-programmed reactions like binary code scrawled on rotting celluloid.
#Anti-Human Declaration, Billions Must Die. Biggest Holocaust Ever
@_MVP_ @BigJimsWornOutTires @Vermilioncore @St.TikTokcel @Gaygymmaxx
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