No everything has to be serious at all times and we cannot find any humor in the absurdity of hell world.

The last time I smiled was on August 19th, 1991. I always wear a dirty ushanka , do not shave, and only take cold sponge baths because hot running water is bourgeoisie decadence. Every day at exactly noon I have the same meal of an expired Maoist MRE I store in a pit covered in old issues of a revolutionary newspaper.

In the evenings I stare at a picture of vodka by candlelight, but I do not allow myself to drink because there is nothing to celebrate. I sleep in a bed made of flags from every failed revolution so that they are never forgotten.

Every local org has banned me after I attempted to split it by assassinating the leadership. Orthodox Marxism requires that true communists purge opportunists whenever they appear. Opportunism is anyone who disagrees with me, drinks fluoride, or owns a smart phone.

My double PHD in marxist economics and 18th century Swiss philosophy (required to understand Engels) sits over the fireplace of my home. My fireplace is a salvaged drum from a 1950s washing machine that was recalled for locking children inside of it. I chose that washing machine model on purpose because I am anti-natalist.

There is no plumbing in my house I shit in a brass bucket with a picture of Gonzalo and Deng french kissing in the bottom of it. My house is actually an overturned T34 in an abandoned junkyard in Wisconsin. I was inside the T34 when it was shipped to Wisconsin and I am the reason the junkyard is abandoned.

I have a single friend in this world and it is a tapeworm named Bordiga that I met after ingesting spoiled borscht on 9/11 in the ruins of building 7 (I blew it up after finding that a nominally leftist NGO inside of it wasn’t sufficiently anti-imperialist, the attacks on the world trade center were a perfect revolutionary moment for me to enact direct praxis against liberalism).

My sole source of income is various MLM schemes in the former soviet bloc that have been running for so long no one remembers who I am, they just keep sending money. I have not paid taxes since McGovern lost the Democratic nomination for president and my faith in electoralism died more brutally than my childhood dog after it got into an entire jar of tylenol.

I own 29 fully automatic rusted kalashnikovs and three crates of ammunition entirely incompatible with them or any other firearms I own. I invented the bat’leth while debating Gene Rodenberry on the dialectical materialism of Posadism. This was, of course, before I was unjustly fired from the production crew of Star Trek for declaring a protracted people’s war against RKO Pictures and setting William Shatner on fire. I continue this liberatory struggle to this day by shipping mail bombs to the Paramount studio lot hidden within packages disguised as edible arrangements addressed to “Gary ‘D. B.’ Cooper”.

During the latest BLM protests I firebombed a Nikes outlet in the middle of a peaceful candlelit vigil. I was briefly contained within Fort Detrick, but cured my long covid with smallpox spores after escaping and returning home.

William F Buckley and I wrote hate mail to one another for 47 years until my final letter gave him an aneurysm. The only water I drink is from puddles. George Lucas and I dropped acid together during an MKULTRA southern baptist summer camp and he went on to write the movie Willow about our time together.

The best way to test whether an electrical wire is live is to drool on it and shrimp salad is racist. You can make an IED out of potassium and the instructions are online thanks to Timothy McVey, who was actually a committed antifascist communist slandered by the deep state as part of operation condor.

Every time a liberal files a restraining order against me, I carve a mark into the wall. I am running out of walls.

When Amerika finally collapses I will be ready to lead the revolution. I am very smart and people like being around me.