Tarl on QAnon-Bullshit-Ban, Big Tech, Words Like „Nazi“, „Hateful“, „Bigot“, „Sexist“, „Racist“… Becoming Meaningless

Deep State Tarl simply laughs about the QAnon-Circus, taking it apart gaily, calling it a LARP. 

He then goes on taking down people who use words like „bigot“, „hateful“ or „Nazi“ against anyone or anything they detest, thus making them meaningless. Fine go.

Of course, he also takes down Facebook and Instagram, clearly not only for banning all QAnon-related content, but also for data mining, child labor, interfering in elections, China connections, overall censorship, the usual menu.

Now, Tarl will by die hard cultist QAnonists be seen either as a low life idiot or an insidious tool of the Deep State itself. I guess he has anticipated that and will be giggling heartily when such expected reactions in their manyfold weird forms come in.

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„Q“ and His Quest (III)

Q has now outright said that he ordered all his men to strip me of any further information, as publishing our little chat was, if not treason, at least a clear sign of myself being neither reliable nor up to the cause.

It took me a few seconds to stomach his remarkable swiftness of reaction, which I had indeed deemed could be coming in ere dusk, as he would probably not long be able to tolerate such open insubordination as mine.

Well, I gave him all respect I could. He, instead, demanded that I keep my mouth more or less shut until given some probably unclear signal of some undefined holy duty some time.

Now, dear Q, if You just win over the Presidency for Donald J. Trump, that is perfect with me.

As for the rest of the Alphabet and You, I don’t do business with dubious people in hiding who, as I give them some big credit anyways, then approach me in such an uncomely way as You already did in Your first call. All this as I had clearly held up Your letter and thus Your reputation.

Well, obviously You don’t even need my subservience any more, which is fine with me.

Just bring Trump in, and I might soon forget about most of all the rest You put up.



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„Q“ and His Quest (II)

I’ve just had Q on the phone. Straight about my first article on his letter song. His identification was flawless. Without doubt it was him.

„Magnus, please do not unmask such productions of sheepshit all too much before it is set time.“

„You want me to refrain from talking about your grandeur and, opposedly, peddlers of such crap against you and your letter? What time is set?“

„Just wait. I will tell you before Trump does, in person. Everything is going according to plan.“

„Oh, right ho, I’ll try to keep myself in check as best I can.“

„Do that.“

And then he hung up. Probably he has a whole lot to do.

Then, maybe he saw himself and his quest together with the letter, which is undisputably his name, sort of like in one kettle mixed in with the quacks and therewith also mocked by my unrespectful words.

I’m gonna have to be careful.


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„Q“ and His Quest

Well, the letter itself is pronounced „kju“, not „kw“, always comes with a „u“, which doesn’t make it a single consonant in English usage. Sometimes, as in „cheque“, it still needs the „u“, but in pronunciation equals a „k“ alone, or, as in „call“, a „c“.

So it seems these people, albeit that their song really sounds fantastic, and is of some as outstanding as excellent artistic composition, have as yet not understood much of the Great Q.

What are they letterwise doing to children? Is this proof of a real conspiracy, alien intrusion, or, though obviously highly organized,  just clearly innocent illiteracy, humbly hammered into toddlers‘ ears?

(The song is said to be of 2010. I ain’t believin‘ ‚em opaque quirky quacks one quark.)


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Wikipedia: Wokeypedia or Wokeepedia or Wokeopedia? – The Game is on

We all know that Wikipedia, albeit not yet broke, is already pretty darn woke.

Now, of course, that is not enough. As noone really knows how to bring in and adjust the linguistic jungle of intersectionalists, all the tribulations and traps by the different tribes of antiracist racists and the rest of the woke lot to sites for sane people.

Now how to get to a Wokeypedia or Wokeepedia or Wokeopedia? The Great Encyclopedia of Accepted Woke Lore, given by The Elders of Wording?

Those shall be dire straits for the editors to be wandering, some Terf- or Trans- or Trisex-Cerberusses in ambush at every twist and corner, shitstorms coming in day and night, wading through swamps filled with fat red leeches, woke worms and germs warping into the digestion systems, sweating halfsyllables while self-castrated midges and mosquitoes and giant black spiders attack airborne as well as jumping out of every green, motley ravens and pink vultures gleefully picking at hundreds of wounds, iridescent blowflies having their feast on the half dry feces covering our hardy heroes, their eternal humming giving background sound to celestial curses.

It is worse than in any Greek tragedy or even any of Kafka’s dystopias, this is an overload of language itself.

The game is on.

As expected – I posted the above about an hour ago – have I received three phone calls already, basically they all wanted to recruit me as a voluntary, for-free-saviour of the Wikipdia anterprise.

Of course, they first went, endowed with more or less subtlety, more or less off on my fable. Then, thus seemingly having flammoxed me, they took on a tone more suave, offering me that I might be kept secret, for the best of myself as well as for the sacred cause.

They would not accept any bailout from my side. I could wail and wither and sail hither and thither in argument, but to no avail. Holding it would be me, as the main culprit for the overall decline and devastation of language if I did not sign up, took an oath to be all sincerely in, wholeheartedly, with all my wits and my still saveable eternal soul.

How to keep these loonies gone desperate recruiters of even me at bay?

They weren’t even that inarticulate or overall impolite. They even called me „Mr Göller“ (one, lo and behold, got the „ö“ right, and my forenames, in asking if he spoke to the desired person, as not „Mägnes“ and „Wulf“, but „Magnus“ and „Wolf“), they even used scholarly expressions like „if I may introduce myself and likewise the importance of this my calling on you“, then regurgitating some freemason speech about humaneness, solidarity, tolerance, equality and fraternity, then creeping on in by swinging to responsibilty, kindness and magnanimity, of which they deemed I could not be commiserably distancing myself, as I had proven in the fable.

There I made an end to this. I unequivocally demanded their real names, occupations and whereabouts plus a legal 10,000 $ payment, in advance, no guarantees of where or when or what from my side, to possibly take a preliminary look at things.

They all filibustered a little more, then hung up.

They are sure gonna send the next hounds of the pack, maybe Betas already. It is thus going to be 30,000 on the spot. No more of yon babble, pandering, gibberish.

Now I got in my first call in German. His accent told me that he was from Hamburg or thereabouts. I thus have to give some of the original here and translate it into intelligible English as best I can. As he might not have known of the afore callers and my 30,000 $ plus policy, I let him have a go.

„Sie haben sich immer als Patriot und in dem Zuge als ein Bewahrer des Reichtums der deutschen Sprache ausgegeben, und nun gehen Sie einfach so von der Fahne, ihrer Sache?“ (You have always posed as a patriot and along this move a caretaker of the richness of the German language, and now you just flee that flag, your sake?)

That was where I had enough.

„Wo sind Ihre Werke dazu? Nennen Sie mir wenigstens eins.“ (Where are your works on that? Name me at least one.)

„Nun, Herr Göller, ich bin ein Manager und Mittler, kann Ihnen aber versichern, dass wir schon einige andere von ihrem Format für die gute Sache gewonnen haben.“ (Now, Mr Göller, I am a manager and middleman, but I can assure you that we have already won over quite some others of your format for the good sake.)

„Haben Sie dabei irgendeinen Schwachkopf gefunden, der sich, außer mir, indem Sie wohl gelesen haben, was ich zu den vorigen Anrufen schrieb, ist ja schließlich Ihr Job, ohne masse Vorkasse auch nur Ihr Ansinnen überlegt hätte?“ (Did you find some moron then, who, besides me, in that you probably have read, as it is your job, what I wrote about the afore calls, had, without massive precash, even considered your request?)

„Dazu bin ich nicht befugt, etwas zu sagen.“ (On that I have no licence to say anything.)

„Gut, dann viel Spaß noch mit den Schwachköpfen.“ (Good, then go have fun with the morons.)

This round ended there. We shall see.

Now they are all out. This is almost undescribable.

My email box is near bursting by data overflow, I cut the phone off, as they try me in myriads. It WAS at 100,000 by now, folks. Conditions as described above.

The last call I took was presumably presented in northern South American Spanish. Very calm, well flowing, nice and clear.

Sorry that I now cannot give the transcription perfectly, as for the needed special characters, but it should, the English translation added, do what’s due.

„Buenas tardes senor Goller, sabemos que usted es un amante de la lengua Espanola. Como podriamos conseguir su asistencia para conservar lo bien, ser un lider en la lucha de no intimidar ni ninos ni mujeres ni aun hombres de buenos intenciones?“ (Good afternoon, Mr Goller, we know that you are in love with the Spanish language. How could we achieve your assistance for holding on to the good, be a leader in the fight of not intimidating neither children nor women nor even men of good intentions?)

„Tres millones de dolares.“

 Here we go.

Now they come and want me to delete all of this. Or else…

They have all gone completely nuts.

First glances at possibly partly redemptive measures now stand at 10, 000, 000 $.


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