Monday 8 February 2021

Checking In

Black Poison Soul, checking in. Eyes, balls, brains - all here, all connected. Let us begin.

Many things have happened over the last six months. The big one: the Big C. For two members of my family. One survived. One died. We continue on.

Sometimes you run across people who have real soul. I ran across one. I have been helping him, in my small way. Not with marital/life problems - he don't need it. (At least, not so far as I know.) Helping him with a personal programming project of his. It has zip to do with the manosphere, so a nice break during an otherwise difficult time. He offered to repay me, I laughed. Some times, some things, you just gotta do what you gotta do, you know what I mean?

Looking back - eleven years. Definitely not to the freaking day, though I can't be arsed to look it up and all. Pretty sure it was this month though - February, my parasite removed. Kinda surprising.

What has changed?

Despite the difficulties of the last six months, not a lot has changed in developed attitude. Though there has been a lot of philosophical thought going on. Some planning done. Some things are more clear-cut. Some things are seen, in retrospect, as being damned-well worth it. Even though they hurt like hell at the time. Even though it's wading through shit and wondering why the hell you're doing it and all.

The learning experience wasn't easy. The experience itself though - far, far more worthwhile than gold. Being able to write about it too. Even if Google's shitbox reckons that I'm a far-right nutjob who would destabilize society et-fucking-cetera LMAO! Oh yeah, devoice BPS, who gives a fuck? This is more and better therapy than paying some high-charging asshole.

Looking around at the FUD - Fear, Uncertainty, Doubt - that is being spread by the media and politicians? Me destabilize society? Hah. 1984, V for Vendetta, in a nutshell. The Communist handbook of destabilizing a country, followed to a T. For the stupid serf parasites: enjoy your brainwashing. Your ancestors worked their guts out for you to be free. You weakly pissed it away. You are slaves now. Much deserved, enjoy sucking cock of the rich and powerful to get ahead.

For a little while.

I find it somewhat amusing. History is there, to be willfully ignored and destroy ourselves - an almost priceless joke. Sad, yet priceless in its' way. When you watch it happen...well, that's done and dusted, innit?


I look back at what my ancestors did 2 generations ago. Only 2 generations. My grandfather and family went from England to Aussie, six months on a sailing ship, wife and two newborn kiddies. He was one of those poor suckers lied to and stolen from: "Yup, there's good land there - pay us X pounds and here's passage on a ship, there'll be good farmland when you arrive for you and your family to own and work on and grow stuff for yourselves." Poor fuckers. On arrival, welcome to the land of sand and snakes and spiders the size of your hand. Farmland? What fucking farmland?

Fuck me. Rude shock? Fuckin' aye!

He was one of those lucky bastards who managed to hop the family aboard a ship to New Zealand. Swamp and bush and rugged hills and bluffs up the Far North of the North Island. Breaking in the native bush, punga's and supplejack and kauri and manuka and swampy peat, turning it into good farmland. Slowly nursing a couple of cows into a small herd to sell the milk and some meat. Gut-wrenching work through WWI and WWII supporting the troops, bringing up 7 kids, and he died of a brain tumor.

More Big-C. Grandfather and Grandmother both. A hard pair, tough, yet it'll take them from ya. It kinda runs in the family - other members have died from it too, in various forms. Probably I'll die from it. Seem clean at the moment, you never know though: men have a higher chance of prostate cancer than wimminz do of breast cancer. Get it checked occasionally, y'know?

So. A hard pair. Not gutless in the slightest. If they'd stayed in England they'd have been serfs for the rest of eternity, which is what's happening to the remaining English anyways. Lords and Masters, and serfs and slaves. Bringing in the shitty parasites from other countries to screw up the serf/slaves even more, which is what joining the EU did to them as a whole. Brexit? Get a wriggle on hahahahah!


So what can we, shall we say, retain for ourselves? Since most of society and das guberment seems hell-bent on taking it all from us. Some thought and philosophical bits of advice as it were...

Don't get too attached. To people, to money, to possessions. Of them all, people are the most important - yet life will take them away from you. I'm not saying be buddy-buddy with all and sundry, and fuck me I hate the people like that. Probably because I'm more the reclusive/antisocial type as it were. You'll find the occasional one with real soul though, and I'm glad to have one real close one in my brother and have run across a few others. Priceless people.

So, how to survive? There's two paths:

1/ Be a slave, own nothing, be a parasite.

2/ Get ahead, don't expect help from anyone (except maybe family) and don't let anyone else know.

That's right. Don't let anyone else know.

Practically of course, that's impossible. Someone is going to know. Lawyers and bankers, those fuckers and complete assholes. Of course, you pay them to keep their gobholes shut. Which if you're getting ahead, you can do.

Gubnermint, well you're fucked there. They will know everything. Unless you can go complete bush, go troppo as they say in Aussie (aka a little bit fucking mad), you're gonna be on das guberment's radar. You can't help that. Just keep your nose clean and your head down.

Wimminz...wimminz, wimminz, wimminz...don't own anything. Always be renting. And like how the fuck do you do that, if/when you're trying to get ahead? You get a home in a Trust, perhaps managed by someone you trust (hahah) and you act like all the rest of your liddle weeble fellow-slaves. Don't bother talking to 'em though - be the antisocial type.

So far as anyone knows you're just like everyone else, living hand-to-mouth and paying the fucking rent to some rich asshole. The difference is that you are quietly becoming the rich asshole. Call the trust something very innocuous ("IMF Trust" - "In Mala Fide Trust" - In Bad Faith Trust heh) and you pay rent into it every freaking week year-in, year-out. Especially after the house is paid off, you keep paying that fucking rent while the Trust goes and quietly gets another house. And another. Ain't nothing and nobody to say different.

If you *do* decide to retire early (after say 3-4 properties in the Trust) - nobody needs to know that either. You're just changing jobs. (To stay-at-home fisherman, and handyman, or antiques dealer, or whatever - you know it makes sense.) This is actually what my brother's in the process of doing, though he's stupid enough to tell people he's retiring. I'm thinking of suggesting that he "find other work". His current employers doesn't need to know that his new work is as a freaking landlord.

Maybe he mows lawns and does handyman work for a living, aka maintains his property. Hell, maybe he can actually do that on the grey market, under the radar, for the other old dears.

Best is that you're still under the radar to teh wimminz and other assorted maggots and parasites of what we will loosely call society.

I don't say avoid teh wimminz. You got needs, yah? If that's your way, that's your way - be careful, make sure not to get the wrong one preggers and all. Never lettum know you're rich as Croesus - never let that Camel get it's head in the damn tent. Little head should never override the big one, you know it. If you do accidentally latch up with one, you're still paying rent, only it's for fucking eternity now that you have wife and kidlets to provide for as well.

If by God you manage to actually find a halfway decent wimminz (few and far between, maybe 5% - 'cause it's statistically impossible for them all to be complete and utter shit and without redemption et-fucking-cetera) you're always, eternally, paying rent. Unless you happen to know without a doubt that she's got a boatload of stuff as well. In that case, your choice. Little head, big head, remember! Just take it fuckin' slow and all.

It would be a disaster if she turned out not to be as great as you thought. Your Trust will be broken up "for the good of the childreeeeen". Which if the bitch had never learned about it, the childreeeeen would have been well-taken-cared-of until well after your death. Grandchildren and great-grandchildren as well. Lemme draw you a picture:

* Every house that the Trust buys and rents out for more cashola etc will be theirs eventually. You're just a friggin' handyman hired to keep the things in decent shape.

* You can "help" organize the kids into a rental home for a long while, which if they fuck the place up aka cause damage to it you can by God ream their asses and "fix it up before the damn landlord finds out and evicts you stupid fuckers". And charge them for it out the wazoo as an extra lesson. 'Cause in this day and age, renting forever is about all that most people will be able to do. Especially if they have the massive student loans that is the whacked-out peculiar way of doing things these times.

* On your death, it'll be a nice little caring touch - showing you *actually* fucking care deeply for them and always did - when they learn that the house they've been renting has been their fucking inheritance all along. As well as a few more houses owned by the Trust, and a tidy fucking sum in cash and other assets, etc etc etc. None of it where anyone can get their sticky damn fingers into and spend like a sailor on shore leave.

* By that point nobody but nobody can break it all up "for the good of the childreeeeen" - 'cause the grandchildren have zero, zip, nada say in the whole bizness. Teh wimminz, if she survives you, will be cared for and cannot split anything out to fritter it away on dresses/handbags/shoes and running around "finding herself" aka chasing foreign cock. By that point she shouldn't fucking want to anyway, though some'a them are still bloody deluded and think they're God's gift to young men and young cock 'cause 50 is the new 30 for fucks sake.


So there's a basic how-to. My brother and I are both following it, in our different ways: his kids and grandkids will be provided for anyways by him, and my stuff will go to them as well 'cause goodness knows I have no kids to be weaponized against me. Which sucks in a way. I guess that I'll have to spoil the fuck outta my grand-nieces and -nephews instead.

"Grand-Uncle! Stop spoiling the kids!" And I'll laugh my ass off 'cause I can. 'Cause in the end, family (so long as they're raised right) and people with soul are the only thing really worthwhile.

I ain't saying it's the only way to do things. At least you (I) will be well-cared-for in your (my) old age. And a helluva surprise for the extended whanau (family) as it were.


There it is - BPS, still hanging in there. We Men survive and recover, generally no matter how grim things get. Being thoughtful, not pissing it all away, life is still very very good. And always getting better.

Almost in my position of Fuck You. Though I refuse to pull a dramatic Fuck You with work. That's juvenile, stupid stuff. Currently looking around in the crazy New Zealand housing market - frothy as hell here, especially in the last 3 months - for my next house to buy. So much leaky-home dogshit to wade through, ugh.

Still doing it though. 'Cause I'm damned if I'm going to be dependent upon someone else when I get older. I'm gonna enjoy my final years on my terms, a little travel, a little photography, a little Grand Marnier, and Fuck You to anyone who wants to deprive me of that.

Glasses high, brothers. To your health and life! - BPS


  1. Good to see yer back.
    Sorry about the fam... thats a stone bitch
    Was worried that lunatic in charge in New Zealand had hauled yer ass away for badthink and thoughtcrime

    1. Heh, I'm small potatoes. Right now the prime witch has far more worrying things going on that small fry like me.

  2. Captain Capitalism literally just did the proof of how many eligible women there are. He came out to 1.5%. That's of unmarried eligible women. It should pop right up if you search it, it's his current post.

    It's big country's fault i'm here.

    WTF is wrong with NZ's government? I mean USA's has clearly been taken over by a foreign power, there's no other explanation, but NZ and that nutjob chick PM?

    1. I'll have to go have a look at Aaron's blog - it's been a while. Nice t'seeya both here.

      I think the most likely cause that the prime witch made it again was because of 2 things:

      1/ She didn't make any obvious fatal mistake with the Covid business. Which I'll admit I'm glad of, the NZ health infrastructure would have been overwhelmed. (I know someone whose wife is a nurse - she admitted that. They were shit-scared about it.)

      2/ The National Party shot themselves in the foot, backstabbed themselves into irrelevance. Which made me swear, however too late now.

      So my thinking is that we're gonna get the prime witch for another term too. I don't seriously think the nat's are gonna get anywhere. Though they might pull a miracle outta their ass sometime.

  3. The younger (but decidedly LARGER) BC steered me over to your little corner of the 'Net. Sorry to read about the family loss to and fight against the biological world's version of socialism.

    I'm going to bookmark your site and check in regularly. I'll try not to leave many sheep jokes, although my now-deceased good friend in Queensland will be looking down (up?) and shaking his head whenever I pass up the opportunity. Cheers, mate!

    1. Hahah, sheep jokes are good! Enjoy, though content will be sparse these days. I have a small part in a programming project for a large-souled man.

  4. Glad to see you posting again as your blog has kept me sane while being subjected to almost 20 years of marital bankruptcy, divorce shaming, child support payments, family court bias, villainisation and male blaming.

    Finally, I'm free & clear: I've been trying to do 'What I like to do'; I've been slowly going Galt; and I've rejected that evil patriarchy which most women seem to hate so much.

    Even now, I get a warm glow just thinking about all those social responsibilities that I have left behind, all those empowered women who I would have otherwise supported & all those taxes that I will no longer pay.

    Those young men who come after us deserve our warnings, if not our pity, and this blog serves as both a warning and a potential blue print for recovery.

    Thanks again.

    1. Free and clear and going Galt: may life go well for you brother. Enjoy it.

      Sadly for the younger generation: things are not looking good for them. Partly due to the modern tendency to heedlessly spit upon the knowledge and experience of their elders.

      Ah well. They too will learn - painfully, as we have - and in the end will (hopefully) pull through. Of course in their turn their experiences will be heedlessly spat upon, and the cycle goes 'round.

  5. BPS here due to BC as well. Yes, son in Texas just got one of my favorite lines several days ago, "Adversity, unfortunately one of the greatest teachers". Sorry about your losses, BTDT two grandparents, mother, father and a brother. Remember, they are in a better place and you and I are stuck here with all the assholes.

    1. Yup. The old ones had a great run at life anyway - a couple made from whipcord and barbed wire. I look at 'em with a certain amount of pride, even if they made a smartass kid's life a bit harder'n he'd have liked.

      The other one though...well, an ignomious ending, full of medical malpractice and suchlike. Saddening.