This text was last published May 10, 2026 @ 3:39:57 AM:
At this time I don’t have a more accurate date, but I will. This was pulled from this archive.org snapshot:
https://web.archive.org/web/20240612231327/https://wunk.me/determinism/
( This link may not work on mobile devices due to archive JavaScript. )
This particular blog post became a significant point of controversy and contention among individuals associated with me and individuals associated with them. I have apologized two or three times over how badly a particular part of it is written. I’m not publishing it now to affirm that I was actually right, somehow, in publishing it the first time (I don’t think I was), and I’m not publishing something that isn’t already available elsewhere beyond my immediate control.
I would rather not publish this, but it became a significant event and piece of writing in these last two years of my life, far more significant than I ever intended. But, sometimes, intentions don’t match impact, and your intentions aren’t always the most relevant. That’s how it goes.
Dr. Mark Bourrie, Liana Kerzner‘s legal counsel at that time (October 7th, 2025), referenced the content of this/that post in a letter without prejudice sent to me via e-mail. That excerpt reads:
“… which had arisen in response to a blog post you had made concerning a childhood experience you had with another child (which it seems you have deleted, but screen-captures exist). Mrs. Kerzner referenced recently … “
October 7, 2025
Dr. Mark Bourrie PhD JD – Barrister and Solicitor
11-190 Booth St.
Ottawa, ON
613-255-2158
As published on LawyerFriday and Masthead
Screen-captures aren’t necessary.
The archive link above won’t display on mobile (something I hadn’t realized until recently) because of archived JavaScript that switched the user to a non-archived Google AMP page, so it must be viewed on desktop. I had previously published the link to the archive.org capture on my social media, which, it became clear, Dr. Mark Bourrie was accessing.
I’ve never hid this post, but I have expressed apologies and regret simply due to what’s written,
not because it’s specifically incriminating.
And that’s something I’ve tried to point out: it’s extremely vague.
Others (not necessarily Dr. Mark Bourrie), as will be shown in time,
claim I wrote things I didn’t,
hence, the publishing now. Dr. Bourrie makes a claim that would require further knowledge that only Liana Kerzner would know, so, it’s one more person she’s shared my childhood trauma with.
I didn’t write anything that specific, as you’ll see below. Liana Kerzner has written more details about it in public forums than I have, and yet, it is inaccurate.
In my personal opinion, she has shown little regard for accuracy when it comes to me, something that was momentarily expressed (in a specific context) in our last exchange and which persists to this day.
Liana Kerzner has repeatedly insinuated that I am a class of person that doesn’t own my mistakes.
But, I do.
The question is whether I think I made a mistake, which is only something I can decide for myself.
I will now own a mistake:
My mistake was trusting my real-life close (on my end) friend of 5 years, Liana Kerzner of It’s Not Therapy, with my personal childhood trauma I hadn’t told anyone outside of my immediate family and therapists.
I’m now presenting it again in an easily accessible and factual manner.
(you can see in the above link I have not edited the post).
The Blog Post
I am not happy.
After 41 years on this planet, I’m unsatisfied with how I’ve spent my time during the first half of my life and what I’ve realized.
I was born to a rural family running a ranch just outside my small hometown. I struggled with severe allergies to many things and severe dry asthma. Before nebulizers came along, I would lay on the couch and struggle to breathe. I participated in 4-H sheep, swine, rocketry, and electricity. I went to public school from beginning to end: the local elementary (which I later worked at), the local middle school, and the local high school. My mother was a mostly stay-at-home mom (who would sometimes work at the fabric store she now owns) who also volunteered to be a leader in 4-H. She later was named Citizen of the Year by Middle Park Fair and Rodeo. As children, we were pretty bright and ended up spearheading our local schools’ gifted and talented program(s).
My father, Scott, was a lifelong functioning alcoholic who worked as the superintendent of water treatment for the town my entire life (a job he hated) until he retired, drank even more, and then, after contracting cirrhosis, starved himself to death in front of the television (Fox News, of course) in the living room of the house he constructed.
Scott was a quality guy: intelligent, sensitive (yes, really!), strong, capable, determined, with integrity and morals. He looked out for others (really) and was understanding all around. He was also fiercely “hard” in a very Germanic way (a language he spoke fluently) and could easily be very laconic towards others (not to me). This led people to assume things about him and his identity much like they do with me (more about that later). For example, many people are impressed at how Scott treated me being homosexual because he seemed so accepting and understanding. For fuck’s sake people, one of his favorite movies was Rocky Horror Picture Show. Like me, the guy had a weirdness in his heart; he just didn’t let anyone who didn’t need to see it.
I’ve seen it.
Growing up, in most respects, Scott didn’t “bullshit” us at all. It’s possible that sometimes, maybe, he should have, but he didn’t. When I say “bullshit,” I don’t mean the bullshit he did (like drinking himself to death or ranting and raving for hours on end), but instead the bullshit that parents often tell their children or engage in that I discovered later working at the elementary.
When I was in elementary school, maybe 6 or 7, I was struggling with anxiety and worry. Scott sat me down in his lap (a moment I fondly remember and wish I could return to). He proceeded to explain to me, at the age of 7, that worrying about certain things was pointless because there wasn’t anything I could do about them, the prime example being that I could die at any moment. I could be walking down the street towards the high school, and a car could veer and hit me, and I could die. Now, I could sit around worrying about that or accept that I could watch out for it, but it could just happen. I was 7.
He also let me/encouraged me to watch Stanley Kubrick’s The Shining uncensored when I was about 9. I loved it. It reminded me of him because he would do a Jack Nicholson impression of Jack. Because of the lax attitude about many things (and the harsher intellectual/emotional climate of the ’80s/’90s) by the people around me and my nosiness, I was exposed to a LOT of “inappropriate,” very “realistic,” things at extremely young ages, probably to my detriment. You could describe the result as “precociousness.”
On another note, I briefly failed most of my classes in seventh grade. This was because I would forget to turn my homework in (or bring it) despite fully completing it at home. At the height of it, Scott sat me down and told me,
You can fail seventh grade.
It’s not up to me or anyone else. I don’t care; it’s not my job; it’s YOUR job to pass seventh grade.
If you fail seventh grade, you will have to make new friends. You’ll be older than everyone else. You’ll stick out even more socially. You’ll be labeled a failure and dumb. You will be the type of student I’ve heard you complain about. If that’s what you really want, go for it.
If you’re not going to turn the homework in… then don’t waste time doing it at home. You could be doing so many other things instead.
If you DON’T want to repeat seventh grade, then you need to figure out how to make your homework and things matter just as much to you as all the other things you remember. I know you remember all the warp tubes in Super Mario, and all the secret entrances in Zelda, because, those are important to you.
Figure out how to make these other things important to you, and you’ll remember them too. The choice is yours.
My father Scott
I thought this type of thing was normal. Apparently, it isn’t. Most parents wouldn’t dream of saying this to their children (or giving them that much freedom), which is a shame.
When I told this story to teachers and parents at the school, they were shocked. They thought Scott was bluffing (he wasn’t). They thought Scott knew I was special, so he knew he could say that (maybe). They couldn’t imagine “letting” a child fail by their own hands. They felt they had to intercede in the child’s life at every turn to ensure they “make the right decision” (even though it really makes it not their decision in the end). But the reality is, Scott just let me live my own fucking life and make my own fucking decisions.
This would all be straightforward and great, heartwarming even, and provide a beautiful and unique foundation for an adventurous life full of zesty wisdom if it weren’t for the fact that life doesn’t seem to work that way; at least, not for me. And I don’t think it did for Scott either, mostly because, in many ways (but not all ways), we are one and the same.
When I was little, Scott had a habit of getting into an altered state (or even just straight-up drunk) and, being frustrated at one thing or another in his life, would rant and rave at my mother (not necessarily AT her personally, but at her in the room) for hours. Sometimes, afterward (or even during), she’d cry. He’d say (which I understand, but others don’t, it seems), “I’m not mad at you.”
We, the children, were often somewhat stuck somewhere else, like upstairs, but definitely out of the way. My oldest brother and older brother would not do this, but I would put my ear to the floor in a somewhat vain effort to hear what was being said. I wanted to know. I wanted to understand Scott’s anger.
Often, Scott’s discontentment flooded our household. He would be in a “mood,” and we’d steer clear of him for the most part unless we absolutely needed something. That’s how I learned to be okay with other people’s anger. His anger wasn’t necessarily my problem unless I made it my problem. I could easily let it just be his.
Unfortunately, my brothers were exposed to more of Scott’s anger than I was because they were forced to help with various chores or projects. And while, as I understand it, he didn’t put down them (or my mother) or assault anyone or act abusive in those kinds of ways, there were occasionally other victims (like animals), and there were, in the long run, other important invisible things hurt.
Scott had an anger problem that had been growing and bleeding since he was a kid that his mother and father never addressed or did anything about. He terrorized his siblings. I suspect he terrorized a lot of people just as much as he was nice to them. I’m sure many people were afraid of Scott.
Once, my mother lamented to Scott that he never really said he loved her much at all, if ever. He replied, “Did I say I love you when we married?” And she said, “Yes.” And he answered, “Well, if anything changes, I’ll let you know.” And that was that.
I saw my parents kiss once.
It’s funny because, for a long time, I thought this was normal. And yet, when I entered elementary and we had school functions where parents would show up, I realized quite quickly (and intuitively) that it wasn’t normal. While my mother was a dynamic powerhouse of a woman, my father was… strange.
I realized on a subconscious level fairly quickly, whether I ever acknowledged it or not, that Scott had a time limit. That someone strange like Scott wouldn’t last a normal amount of time. There was going to be a premature end.
And there was.
On his deathbed, when he couldn’t speak or close his eyes, I hugged his skeletal body for the first and last time, and when we were alone, I told him, “I love you, I have always loved you, and I will always love you,” for the first and last time.
What was Scott so angry about?
I wanted desperately to understand Scott’s anger. Why? Because of what it could inform me about myself. So, I proceeded to figure it out. I’ve spent a great deal of time pondering Scott’s anger and existence, maybe too much time.
My theory is that Scott was angry because he believed he was not enough at some level. He was born pretty small, and he was always pretty small. He had to prove himself. That’s why he always strove to be the best at everything he did from swimming to skiing to school. While he was dying, I think he believed he deserved to die because he had fucked up. He wasn’t good enough for the rest of us. He said that other people who had died deserved to be alive more than he did. Of course, I don’t think so; I’d take Scott over anyone else any day.
Yet, at the same time, Scott knew he was more than enough in other ways and stood up for it. He made sure the school district didn’t take away the valedictorian award from him and give it to some popular douchebag just because they didn’t like him. Their actions reinforced the insecurity of not being enough: society obviously hated him because they didn’t want him to be the best. This was the setup for the later irrational statement, “God hates my existence and is punishing me.”
And that’s the thing; in Scott’s fair and rational world, he was the best and could prove it, but in the light of everyone else’s eyes, the unfair and irrational world of society, somehow he was bad, didn’t fit in (didn’t want to fit in), and was a reject.
Scott never felt (or believed) that he got what he wanted out of anything he ever did.
But guess who did? Everyone else of course! Everyone else got to live happy lives. Everyone else got to do what they wanted, didn’t have to suffer as much, had things so much easier, were happy, didn’t have to struggle financially or psychologically, didn’t have to be rejected, got to have friends, got to be “normal.” Everyone else had it made.
This sounds simplistic and silly, and it is. My mother pointed it out: how could he know what everyone else had to face or struggle with? He didn’t know anything about other people’s lives, at least not enough to make those declarations. But, you know, it didn’t really matter. It never mattered. It wasn’t about accurately framing other people’s lives; it was about framing his against theirs so he could wallow and flail and be frustrated, envious, and ultimately angry about everything.
I know this sounds so irrational coming from someone who usually seemed pretty rational (the guy was freakin’ brilliant, and everyone knew it), but there it is. That’s the truth! That’s how life goes.
People often talk about a thing called determinism. It’s a philosophical way of talking about destiny or fate. People are “determined” to be or do one thing or another based on factors such as upbringing, class, social status, genetics, heredity, physical characteristics, spirituality/god, etc. You essentially are what you are by some freak accident of chance, and you can never change it, and you’ll always end up doing what you are “meant” to do no matter what. Most of the individuals that really champion this idea are usually pretty well off, have some special talent, see themselves as superior (and thus deserve to exploit others), or at least not in any danger of failing, suffering, or dying. How convenient!
Scott’s father was an envious man and a bit strange. He once tried to tame a wild skunk. Scott was an envious man and angry. Unfortunately, I inherited Scott’s anger and its sources: envy and frustration. Scott was a very envious person. I am, too, and I’ve tried to “hide” it for a long time. But, you know, after everything that’s happened or hasn’t happened in my life, I’m done with hiding.
I will admit the truth: I am a very envious person. I’m not proud of that, but I’m not exactly ashamed of it either at this point. It just is, right now. That’s life. I’ll get to this more later.
People have no idea. Many get so comfortable with things being pretty straightforward in their lives (though they rarely think it) that they make many judgments based on that comfort when they have no idea.
I’m so tired. I am so, so tired. I’m so tired of depression, anxiety, intelligence, and the ensuing cluster B personality disorder. And yes, I have a personality disorder. I am a disturbed person. People have no idea. I’ve always struggled with this. I know the ways that people think about me, the stories and identities they construct for themselves because they’ve told me all of it either to make fun of me or to make me conform to their interpretation: a goody-two-shoes high achiever naive white-bread soft pussy genius that’s never had to suffer or work hard a day in his life, is “only book smart, not street smart,” that doesn’t understand hard edge druggy subversive underground counterculture and only lives to be a good capitalist peon appeasing the man and advancing prestigious western civilization by contributing to society with the proper values and ethic. I never really got to fully be the person I really was to everyone around me growing up because I was this ethereal creature whose societal specter I just described hung over him all the time. Nobody knew what to do with me or sometimes wanted to have anything to do with me. Sound familiar?
The reality is very different. I am not that person. I have never really been that person. I can sure as hell LOOK like that person, and I can even ACT like that person if I wanted, perhaps to my benefit, but I’m NOT THAT PERSON. The shitty person I just described makes me want to do this: There are so many things I am aware of or know that others (even those close to me) have no idea I know or have to carry around, and there are so many things I’ve seen or done that others aren’t even aware of, bizarre and terrible things I can’t just come out and say (and won’t).
I will give one example, though: I have sexual violence in my past as a very young child, but rather than being the victim (which would be more acceptable), I am the perpetrator. You didn’t see that one coming, did you? See what I mean? Either way, although I regret my wrongful actions, I am scarred just as much as any other child who’s been disturbed in such a way.
That’s one example. There are many others that I will not get into. Hopefully, this gives you a feel for what I’m saying.
Just like Scott was mischaracterized a lot by many people all the time, I have been mischaracterized, mostly to my benefit. Just like Scott had to face the world with a complex of not being enough somehow but at the same time rejected for being too much, I have continuously struggled with being both admired and rejected at the same time. Like Scott never felt he could get what he wanted out of what he did (even raising his own family), I have never felt that I got what I desired from anything I set out to do. Scott was a staunch individualist and capitalist; I am a staunch individualist and capitalist. Scott was a heathen (kind of atheist, but not really, but definitely not Christian); I am a “heathen”: a new-age atheist Luciferian (“Lucifurryan”). When Scott ranted about other stupid people to me, I often finished his thoughts for him. I listened intently to everything he ever had to say. Scott had a strangeness in him, but he did not reveal nearly as much as I did the embraced strangeness inside me.
I think about determinism. It took a lot of determinism for Scott to kill himself via starvation. It has taken a lot of determinism on my part to go to the hospital sixteen freakin’ times in twenty years rather than end up dead (two times I almost failed).
Is my destiny shaped by my great-grandfather, grandfather, and father? I sometimes have arguments with my spouse, and I hear the exact same conversation coming out of our mouths that I heard decades ago in the kitchen coming out of his. It’s uncanny.
Does this mean I have a time limit? Does this mean I’ll also be dead in twenty years? I can easily see someone encountering me as an adult and having it like they’re encountering Scott. Now he’s dead. That’s my future if nothing changes. That’s where I’m headed: small, dead, obscure, and unimportant.
That’s my biological determinism. That’s my spiritual destiny. That’s the fate that I’ve been assigned after, I guess, being a bad person. That’s where I am to be in the social hierarchy of capitalist America: the mentally ill son of an alcoholic loser that can’t make it in the cutthroat world of modern male society because he’s a faggot who dresses up like a dog to interact with children.
Fuck that shit.
So, how do I escape all of this? How do I stop being Scott? How do I escape my fate? How do I escape my complex? How do I get out?
I’m getting electro-convulsive therapy (ECT) because the hospital psychiatrist believes that without it, I’m most likely a danger to others (or myself). It’s probably because of what I told him I’d most likely do if I couldn’t get any help.
And it’s helping, but it’s also fucking up my life.
My sense of continuity has always been somewhat tenuous and highly temporal. Still, I’ve always been able to construct a certain narrative out of recent events and out of the mess and chaos that is everything that floats around my life; a narrative that is able to clarify a certain purpose, meaning, or idea. Most everyone can do that. Making your brain seize, essentially scrambling it, disrupts that. And you can’t just step aside and point to it because the ability to perceive where to point to relies on your ability to perceive where to point to.
And so, after having my college career end up being an almost permanent ban from campus because of illegal activity (and allegedly threatening another student’s life, which I didn’t) and then an exhaustive sixteen hospitalizations in mental hospitals across the state (one being a 90-day certification in an institution in Grand Junction that lost its license for inappropriate activity) over the last 20 years, I am now a man, in a fursuit (as always pictured), married to an immigrant whom I petitioned for citizenship, getting my brain electrocuted on a weekly basis.
But what do I know?
Now I have to keep reminding myself about what life actually is, how people think, and what people do because my brain zonks out completely on all of it, and it all gets lost in a disjointed sea of bizarreness.
I am interrupted. But what does that mean? I have no fucking idea, but I AM boy interrupted.
I am a queer, subversive, somewhat anti-social, chaotic, interesting, smart, strange weirdo who stands up for the “other” because I am the other: I want to be an “animal person” with all my heart, just like others might “want to be” (they are) a different gender/sex, I want to be a wholly different human-creature because that’s what I am. I AM that ethereal creature no one could touch, just beyond everyone’s reach, not better, not superior, just different. I’ve always thought this.
I’ve always conceived of things like this because I’ve always lived in the future. Well, that future I’ve been living in has finally caught up with me, though I’m not sure how ready it is for the things I want to do.
I’m so tired of constantly being stuck in this self-made void. Cause that’s where I am, a void. I am a hermit. People don’t understand me (see above), constantly try to stick things on me, don’t actually fucking see me for what I am (which might be dangerous for them) and what I’m capable of, and try to put me down and shame me for having the audacity to be an individualist who pays no lip service to duty and altruism and doesn’t constantly clamor to meet everyone’s bullshit expectations.
I’m constantly told, every time I open my mouth about anything, how I don’t really know anything because I have a personality disorder, because I’m furry, because I’m gay. I have gay people telling me I’m NOT gay, but rather checks notes a “bisexual colonizing gay spaces,” (uh, no) or that I have no idea what it’s like to “actually suffer as a gay” (seriously?). Either that or I “think I’m right because I use big words,” but “I haven’t really suffered,” so I don’t “really understand.” Apparently, if I “actually” suffered validly, I couldn’t possibly have the opinion I have. Which is all bullshit, and it’s always all because I don’t fit into a small-minded biased agenda. I’m so tired of the Trump world (cause this is what it’s always been; it just had to metastasize), the idiocy, the cruelty, the constant unnecessary othering. I’m still being discarded, essentially, by society, in various ways, to this day, and I try to treat the whole complex I get from it by marching myself off to blast my brain into oblivion and hope for the best!
I didn’t ask to be an other.
I didn’t sit up one day and think, “Oh, I know, I’ll just be a gay atheist wolf-skunk rational egoist for fun because that’ll benefit my life.” Likewise, I refused to say, “I better tone down everything different about me so that I will be taken seriously by society and not discarded.”
The only crime I’ve ever committed is that of being fucking honest about who I am, what I think, what I believe, and what I feel. Many people are sympathetic to many things I say; they don’t want the same burden of being honest about it.
So many people do things they never tell anyone else, things I sometimes end up knowing about, terrible things that I sometimes end up unable to do anything about. I said that to Dr. Johnson in the hospital, and he said, “Yeah, working this job, tell me about it!” And I was like, “Yeah, but Dr. Johnson, I’m not a psychiatrist, and I’m aware of this.”
But what the fuck do I know, right?
Dr. Johnson asked me, “Do you see a place in society for you?”
I said, “No. I don’t.”
What do I know?
So, here I am, writing on a blog (ah, the days of LiveJournal) about my life (this is my life), what I’m doing (nothing), and who I am. I remember all the days I spent with my best friend in Granby Jones, all the silly high school trips for band or knowledge bowl, the endless days of Scott’s “mood,” not wanting to go home after school. Nobody seemed to care (as usual). Marching in the parade as Willy the Red Husky or Copper the Cop Dog, sitting on my hands in elementary computer lab cause I’d skip ahead of everyone else (and as the computer lab administrator later never asking anyone to do that), all the times I’d get nosy and poke through my parent’s things (uncovering their not even hidden “Penthouse Letters”), all the times I’d dare to express something somewhat gay just below the surface, all the times Ben Cherrington and Nick Oberle would call us gay and fags because we were in Band while they were in Wrestling (it never makes any sense).
I remember the disappointment I felt when I realized that some of my friends weren’t really my friends or they had serious issues. Nathan Bruce Messer (Avery Shepherd) was never really my friend, just a shitty furry that took advantage of my mental illness, deep pockets (that weren’t even mine), and naivete cause that’s all I’m worth. █████ █████ (█████), made famous by █████ and █████ (more like █████), whom I befriended at the behest of █████ mother when █████ was in middle school, was another. We were true friends for a long time, but after another seeming suicide attempt (which may or may not have been one) after acting like a jackass and █████ (big surprise) and █████ brain being rotted away by █████ and █████, I realized █████ has a more severe personality disorder than I do, is constantly manipulative, and is also far more sinister in the end. My adopted brother Cliff is a nice guy who deserves a nice life, and I’m still his brother, but at one point down the line, he decided to side with the world rather than side with me about, well, just about everything, and so after that rejection… that kinda died.
I remember teaching myself programming from BASIC on a TRS-80 Color Computer II 16k (TRASH-80), starting in elementary school, and finally moving to C++ on a PowerMac in high school. All on my own, no mentors, no teachers, nothing. Just me and the books I could glean from our random trips to Denver. I did this because I was enamored with video games. I wanted to design and make video games so badly. My first encounter with a Nintendo was a religious experience. I knew how big they’d be (cause I live in the future, remember?) And now we’re here… and I have nothing.
I remember all the weird things I’d do or think growing up, usually by myself. How I’d harm myself on the swings (I guess cutting myself was too extreme?) I only listened to Trent Reznor for at least three years during high school and entering university. Seriously, only Trent Reznor and nothing else. That kinda fucks up your mood. I would film myself naked with my camera. I’d do my best to download fursuit sex videos over my 56k modem and other fetish videos while I was, what, 14? Every once in a while, I’d quickly masturbate, hidden, in some public place because… that’s what you do, I guess? Later, I developed a full-blown psychotic neurosis about it, as one does.
I’m a wild, wacky, surprising, shocking, weird guy.
However, in my assessment, I am a shit person. An example of the detritus of society. I’m intelligent, sensitive, strong, capable, and determined, and I have integrity and morals. I look out for others and am very accepting and understanding all around. But none of that ever seems to count for anything. I remain rejected and ignored, not noticed, not taken seriously, and generally put down by almost everyone who doesn’t have a reason to like me already. Other furries get along just fine and become popular and successful, even making money… but we know the refrain.
I can only guess as to why. I don’t put myself out there. I don’t talk to people. I don’t have my own fursuit. I don’t produce my own content. I’m gay, furry, dress in a fursuit, or otherwise act silly, so people dislike me on that (and who cares about them?) I don’t volunteer for anything. I don’t get involved in anything. I don’t give; I only seem to take and do so with a bad attitude. Oh, poor me, I’m terrible, pitiful; look how awful I am and how awful the world is because of it.
Don’t think I’m not self aware. Don’t think I don’t see the good and the bad. Don’t think I don’t know about myself and others. Don’t ever think I’m unaware, cause you’ll most likely be wrong.
All of this sounds an awful lot like the altered, honest kitchen rantings of a tall, bearded man.
However, there is one thing I remember and know.
No matter how flawed the execution, I created something special when I was in high school.
That’s right. I created it. And it wasn’t just a story others liked, a character/persona, a computer game/software, or anything that would allow others to admire my vast greatness. No, it actually involved other people more than myself.
And that thing was The Clasheerian Order.
The Clasheerian Order was my foray into doing something strictly on my terms that socially served my interests. Like many small-town counties, our county didn’t have a very strong culture or any programs for the “arts” or for “creative individuals” in general. One day, I decided that would change, and I would be in charge of it.
So, with my adopted brother Cliff, we founded The Clasheerian Order (see the combination of our names?), and it happened. At first, it was purely internet-based through Yahoo chat rooms, but gradually, it grew. Once I started a newsletter (“Peristaltic Monthly”, yeah, I know) it really took off. The club eventually gained sixty-four or so members (internet and local). It’s suspected to be responsible for electing █████ as head boy in our school, which was a surprise. It was a social force. And… it meant that in our own way, among all the kids that were “different” or didn’t fit in, Cliff and I were the top dogs. We were popular!
And then I graduated. And then I went to university. And then I attempted suicide. And then I was hospitalized. And then…
It imploded.
It wasn’t all at once. It lasted quite a while when I was employed at my first job, really. Cliff took over the website with a guy named Raffie, and he really made it work pretty well! I was impressed, and things were going well—kind of. Then there was the rift.
Cliff (now living in Denver with my other friend/brother-in-law) and I started taking jabs at each other for various reasons, some related to The Clasheerian Order and its leadership and some personal/relational, like love interests and girlfriends. I finally got pissed off enough I shut the whole thing down. I turned TCO into TCX and shut Cliff out, and that was that.
And that was a mistake.
When TCO was doing “well” and being “successful,” it was so wonderful. I was important, and people admired me (and had reasons to admire me). I had friends and fans and arranged group activities. I mattered. It was as if, in a way, I had discovered what I was to do as a weird person for other weird people. People read my writing. People bought my newsletter. I mattered. Better yet, I got other people to matter, too, who might not have “mattered” as much otherwise.
Nothing happened after TCX was formed, and █████ became my right-hand man. It all died. Cliff tried to do a thing called Real Inspired, but that didn’t pan out either. Everything stopped. The dream was dead.
I killed it.
Since then, I think my life has gone downhill despite being in a movie, building multiple fursuits (and filming hundreds of videos), exploring other things, and even getting married. It’s just gotten progressively worse regarding isolation, meaning, satisfaction, frustration (with society), and envy. Year after year after year. I have failed as a son, as a programmer, as a husband, as a game designer, as a role model, as a friend, as a furry, as a YouTuber, as a blogger, as a web designer, as an entrepreneur, as, well, pretty much everything.
Hanging over every one of my failures is the bleak specter of my mental illness, the calm, antiseptic hallways of institutions, all the vodka bottles of my father’s alcoholic rage, and all the possibilities of all the could’ve-been’s if people, including me, could’ve just been a little softer and a little kinder and little more caring. But they never are. Ever.
So here I am, getting electroshock treatments, frying my brain, and not doing much of anything important to anyone, bemoaning like an idiot that, for whatever cosmic reason, I just don’t fucking matter to anything.
What to do now?
I sit back now here and let out a defeated but honest sigh. I’ve been honest with you, more honest than I’ve ever been. I don’t have anything more to lose. I am what I am, and that’s who I am. I practice selfishness as my moral philosophy and don’t pay lip service to altruism or duty. That’s never going to change. Despite being compassionate to others, some people really don’t like that, but I bring it up because of what I’m about to write.
I don’t want this to be the rest of my life. Who would?
That means things are going to have to change—lots of things. I will have to change, and I would like some people/things in my life to be willing also to change if they can. I want to, at least once, get what I want out of something I’ve decided to do.
I want people to give me a chance by seriously considering what I have to say and what I want to do—a consideration that maybe, because of who I am, what I am, or what I’ve done, they might not have otherwise given. I can be easily dismissed and have been many times, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that’s the best thing to do.
I want to transform my envy and even my psychological frustration with interacting with the world into something much better: social good. I want to start a company. Actually, I have already founded a company, Original Pursuits Limited Liability Company, whose sole focus is sustainably providing that social good through high-quality, useful, and competitive products and services for creative and entrepreneurial individuals. Unfortunately, its only product/service right now is shared web hosting under the label Novelty Factor Hosting. (Note: I created that entire website and set up its turn-key services, so yes, I can finish something.) It’s made money over the last fiscal year, but it is struggling.
I need help.
You may be asking, “What is this social good?” I envision creating a parallel organization to Original Pursuits LLC, the Original Pursuits Society. You can think of this organization as a social club/guild/society/non-profit/etc. similar to The Clasheerian Order, except this time run by experienced adults and reaching much farther and with much more capability into the lives of creative individuals of all walks of life everywhere.
But that’s not the end goal; that’s only the beginning. I want to make vast profits under the umbrella of these two parallel organizations. “Profits?” you gawk. Yes, but instead of endless profits for shareholders (which there aren’t any) and executives, I’m measuring profit in the amount of economic value created in/for the public. The more value we can create for everyone involved, the more profit we attain.
I realized a while ago that I don’t care about being “rich.” I don’t care about profit in the traditional sense, as in having it all come to me so I can buy a giant mansion, a yacht, a park, and invest ungodly amounts in stocks… no, seriously, that’s stupid. I don’t care about that. I care about affording a nice life, but that’s pretty easily attainable when the numbers increase.
I’m sick and tired of the capitalist organizations in America needlessly fucking over everyone endlessly so that they can enjoy greater and greater profits, all while blaming inflation. I’m a capitalist, but I don’t regard value or people like that at all, so I want to do something about it and show it can be done.
I care about putting value into the hands of people who deserve and need it. That means a large amount of program or profit that isn’t directly reciprocated: essentially free stuff. For example, I would like to see these things happen:
- How to Program Anything: A Computational Foundation – How To Program Anything (HTPA) aims to provide clear, comprehensive, accessible, and educational programming resources that integrate the theoretical scientist’s knowledge with the practical engineer’s methods. It’s designed to appeal to both the artist and the engineer, the young novice or the adult enthusiast, with mainstream content (such as Python or Data Science) and niche (like MU* or retro computing).
Resources are always free to access, always free to share (Content License: CC BY-NC-SA 4.0, Project License(s): MIT License), and will always remain ad-free (and unbiased) through the support of our users on Patreon.
https://howtoprogramanything.com/
Four principles guide us:- Provide Solid Intellectual Foundations
- House Historical Perspectives
- Be Useful And Productive
- Foster A Diverse Audience
- Press Accept Software: Premium Quality Open-Source Software – Press Accept Software (PAS) develops and supports premium quality open-source software for many creative purposes. What do we mean by premium quality? Oftentimes, high-quality open-source software, such as a WordPress plugin, sporting the friendliest interface, most comprehensive features, and more, is commercial in that a license for support or otherwise must be purchased. This helps support the quality of the software. Press Accept Software aims to develop software, in tandem with HTPA, that retains the same level of quality but without a commercial license. We hope to foster widely diverse and creative projects, including some people might say, “Why would you want to do that?” In that sense, Press Accept Software is a welcoming place for creative, different, and even neurodivergent programmers and software engineers.
https://pressaccept.com/ - The Chraki Language Institute: Linguistics For Everyone – The Chraki Language Institute (CLI) publishes free educational materials related to linguistics, (foreign) languages, constructed languages, formal languages (programming and math), and other language resources. It also will provide a forum/platform for discussion and social connections. In terms of constructed languages, it will mainly focus on Chraki (but include others) as both a natural language and a programming language. The goal is to provide the largest free public database of all things language and linguistics.
https://chraki.dev/- Kougeki: Japanese – English Gaming – Kougeki (攻撃) is an online blog that showcases Japanese games with videos and translates and explains them in English to raise awareness of Japanese video games, pop culture, and language. This site is the main resource for Japanese (日本語) information in the Chraki Language Institute network.
https://kougeki.com/
- Kougeki: Japanese – English Gaming – Kougeki (攻撃) is an online blog that showcases Japanese games with videos and translates and explains them in English to raise awareness of Japanese video games, pop culture, and language. This site is the main resource for Japanese (日本語) information in the Chraki Language Institute network.
- Peristaltic Monthly – A revival of the official newsletter of The Clasheerian Order but now on a massive global scale via the internet and on-demand magazine printing. This publication is meant to showcase and give a voice to the thousands of creative individuals worldwide looking to get published and get their voice out there with something unique. It will also hold the news and other important information for the Original Pursuits Society and have articles about current events and issues.
https://peristalticmonthly.com/ - Hyper Life Ninja – A free-to-access lifestyle publication/website/channel showcasing various skills and crafts for the modern homemaker (or anybody) as inspired by the 30s-90s. It will also house software tools for home organization and meal planning, including a large and free recipe database from almost everywhere.
https://hyperlife.ninja/ - Nostalgia Bytez – A free-to-access database (as can be legally done) of abandonedware and retro/old software/games. Showcases retro creators, streams, videos, walkthroughs, graphics, fan sites, and even explanations of old game code and how to program retro consoles.
https://nostalgiabytez.com/ - It’s A Fur Thing – A furry community publication.
https://itsafurthing.com/ - Bulc.ing – An absurdist post-modern cultural (night)club in the Second Life virtual world.
https://bulc.ing/ - Why Do I Feel This Way? – A database of free mental-health resources written and collected by those with mental health issues for others with mental health issues. Do you need psychological insight or some direction regarding therapy or life? Would you like to figure out why you feel the way you do? Access Why Do I Feel This Way, always for free.
https://whydoifeelthisway.com/ - How to Mean Business – A free business news and advice site with articles and resources for entrepreneurs and enterprises alike.
https://howtomeanbusiness.com/ - Every Fur – A furry community social networking site.
https://everyfur.com/ - How to Make a Fursuit – A database of free fursuit-making resources and tutorials.
https://howtomakeafursuit.com/ - HUGNS: Happy UnderGround News Station – An online news television station (with other shows) operated entirely by whimsical furries.
https://hugns.com/ - Ascendentum Sublimas Universitas: Esoterica – A wiki that can serve as the umbrella of ALL the free stuff listed in this list. I imagine this as a sort of combination of Wikipedia, an online directory, a search engine, a free university, a community, and virtual space.
https://esoterica.wiki/ - Singer Notes – A video community for musical and vocal artists to get away from the chronic abuse of the opera and recording industry, showcase their talents, and show what they can do outside of the noise of mainstream social media.
https://singernotes.com/ - Cybercadia – An online virtual space where creative individuals can connect, interact, and learn.
https://cybercadia.com/
I then imagine these following ideas/sites as the commercial sites that would provide some services and make the company some of the money that would then be spent on increasing social profit:
- Novelty Factor Hosting – A highly competitive shared hosting provider with unlimited bandwidth and space.
https://noveltyfactor.com/ - Incarnate Me – A commercial (but free to use as a user) identity service for single sign-on and other identification and verification services.
https://incarnate.me/ - Chromacoder – A transcoding API that operates on object storage services (S3-compatible) to transcode uploaded video content into streamable files (think video-sharing sites). Can achieve lower prices than competitors (AWS and Coconut) by charging only for exactly the computing resources used.
https://chromacoder.com/ - Kadar Development – Develops purposefully commercial software under contract.
https://kadardev.com/ - Junky Shark – Online pop culture store and marketplace.
https://junkyshark.com/ - Artificial Dream Productions – Game development studio.
https://artificialdreamproductions.com/ - Falcraft Studios – Second Life content studio.
https://falcraftstudios.com/ - Kadar Entertainment – Computer/video game publisher.
https://kadarentertainment.com/ - Satyrotica – A website for the more adult-oriented creativity that adult members of the society might produce. A collection of erotica, both free and paid, and a community devoted to that erotica.
https://satyrotica.com/- Murrsuits – A commercial adult video-sharing site specifically for furries and fursuits.
https://murrsuits.com/ - Lewdonarrative – A game development studio focusing on unique adult-oriented furry visual/kinetic novels.
https://lewdonarrative.com/
- Murrsuits – A commercial adult video-sharing site specifically for furries and fursuits.
This is just a sketch of ideas of the commercial services that could be offered.
The truth is, I can design and program pretty much any site or web app you can imagine. That includes functionality. My partner and I have batted around some ideas of reproducing some high-profile web services but for cheaper and better (considering where the money is going).
These ideas have been sitting in limbo for years and years now. And a lot of that, as █████ can tell you, is me. So I gotta fix that. But some of it is just being ignored by society on top of withdrawing from society as a hermit.
I gotta improve my daily life with a schedule. I need to change how I look at people and situations. I’m going to a Jungian therapist to do this. I’m getting electroshock to calibrate and make my brain hemispheres less asymmetric. I’m trying.
I’m hoping that, past this post, I will be able to show that I am trying and that I want to do things to be taken seriously by what I’ll be writing and producing on some of these sites.
I want something good to come out of all of this, but, that requires other people being kind and caring enough to also want it too.