What if Nick Land was a girl?

What if Nick Land was a girl?

She looks like Rachel Rosenfelt of Verso/new inquiry etc.

Would totally bang.

Hi n1x

Nick is your whole problem with the left that you want to be a woman but it's too late to transition?

How can one accelerate transitioning

What

>GOTTA GO FAST xD

>GOTTA GO FEMME

Space echoes like an immense vagina, yet the men still rule. Why does the patriarchy take so long to die?

I figured it was you

She would have more Twitter followers

Who is "me?"

Nick already has feminine features so it would probably be the same except she wouldn't be a virgin

>Nick Land is a virgin meme
Ummmm wrong sweetie, try again :)

Sorry lad, I just have a prejudice against philosophers who are also meth addicts

>Nick Land is a meth addict meme
Ummmm wrong sweetie, try again :)

Are you Nick Land?

>Nick Land is a Veeky Forums shill meme
>Ummmm wrong sweetie, try again :)

I'm telling you, it's n1x

This was it. The fabled book. Fanged Noumena. Far more real and terrible than the Necronomicon. I take off my work fedora and put on my reading fedora and sit down in a comfortable leather chair. The book is aesthetically pleasing, small, well-designed. Perfectly designed to appeal to a capitalist nihilist. The Table of Contents entrance me with evocative titles and I soon begin to devour the contents with glee. It is as if drinking from a cup of blasphemies. I soon hear the silvery cries of the demons. Frog synchronicity begins to appear all around me. My nights are vivid encounters with being from outside our reality. And now I fear, the outside is leaking into the real world too. I have become a portal for something else. Something which follows a schizophrenic logic I can only grasp the infinity of. It only lets me write this because it knows you will pursue taboo and not listen. Is not prohibition the ultimate commandment?

...

Underrated post

heh

What the fuck did you just fucking say about me, you little bitch? I’ll have you know I graduated top of my class in the CCRU, and I’ve been involved in numerous secret raids on the Crypt, and I have over 300 confirmed hyperstitions. I am trained in insectoid guerilla warfare and I’m the top adept in the entire Architectonic Order of the Eschaton. You are nothing to me but just another target. I will deterritorialize you the fuck out with precision the likes of which has never been seen before on Nu-Earth, mark my fucking words. You think you can get away with saying that shit to me over the Net? Think again, fucker. As we speak I am contacting my secret network of swarmachines in the USA and your IP is being traced right now so you better prepare for the Biomorphic horror, maggot. The Biomorphic horror that wipes out the pathetic little thing you call your life. You’re fucking dead, kid. I can be anywhere, anytime, and I can decode your flows in over seven hundred ways, and that’s just with my anorganic semiotics. Not only am I extensively trained in Lemuriam time sorcery, but I have access to the 45 demons of the Numogram and I will use them to their full extent to wipe your miserable ass off the face of the continent, you little shit. If only you could have known what aquapocalypse your little “clever” comment was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have held your fucking tongue. But you couldn’t, you didn’t, and now you’re paying the price, you goddamn idiot. I will shit fury all over you and you will drown in it. You’re fucking dead, kiddo.

A grey-tribe effective altruist polyamorous MIRI researcher and Harry Potter fanfiction author was teaching a class on Scott Alexander, a known rationalist.
”Before the class begins, you must get on your knees and worship Scott and accept that he is the most highly-evolved being the world has ever known, even greater than Mencius Moldbug!”
At this moment, a brave, HBD-proponent (r)accelerationist who had read more than 1500 Nick Land screeds and fully supported all economic decisions made by the emergent technocapitalistic inhuman godhead stood up and held up an efficient market economy.
”Who does this market serve, pinhead?”
The arrogant professor smirked (((in a high IQ fashion))) and smugly replied “The free market is the most efficient tool every created to allocate resources, you stupid Nazi!”
”Wrong. It serves Lord Gnon (who always has been and always will be) and enforces only his blind idiot will on the universe."
The professor was visibly shaken, and dropped his chalk and copy of The Culture of Critique. He stormed out of the room crying those rationalist crocodile tears. The same tears Peter Singer cries for the “suffering” (who today live in such luxury that most survive their first bout of malaria) when they jealously try to claw justly earned wealth from their biologically superior Western betters. There is no doubt that at this point our professor wished he had abandoned his Christian-apologetic "ethics" and become more than a sophist freeloading cult leader. He wished so much that he had a basilisk to memetically coerce the student into unending servitude, but he himself had petitioned against them!
The students applauded and all pledged money to James Damore's Hatreon that day and accepted Gnon as their lord and savior. "Fanged Noumena" was read several times, and Moloch himself showed up and showered the lecture hall in oil and stone.
The researcher lost his tenure and was fired the next day. He died of nootropic overdose and copies of his mind-state were tortured by omnipotent, omnibenevolent machine intelligences for all eternity.

>'This is a cool radio station,’ it said to its sister. ‘The radio isn’t on,’ its sister replied, concerned. Vauung learnt that the ruin’s unconscious contained an entire pop industry. The ruin learnt that it had arrived, somewhere on the motorway. Nothing more was said about it. Why upset your family?

cute!

"She" would have a bigger cult following.