Petition against the reactosphere

Believe it or not, life is stirring in old Europe. The fate of that sad continent has always reminded me of a fantasy novel I read when I was 18 and read fantasy novels, Guy Gavriel Kay’s Tigana. As La Wik explains:

The plot focuses on a group of rebels attempting to overthrow both tyrants and win back their homeland. Many of the rebels are natives of the province of Tigana, which was the province that most ably resisted Brandin: In a crucial battle, Brandin’s son was killed. In retaliation for this, Brandin attacked Tigana and crushed it more savagely than any other part of the Palm; then, following this victory, he used his magic to remove the name and history of Tigana from the minds of the population. Brandin named it Lower Corte, making Corte, their traditional enemies to their north, seem superior to a land that was all but forgotten.

Only those born in Tigana before the invasion can hear or speak its name, or remember it as it was; as far as everyone else is concerned, that area of the country has always been an insignificant part of a neighbouring province, hence the rebels are battling for the very soul of their country.

When we Americans contemplate the depressing spectacle of “European socialism”—i.e., American socialism, sent by airmail—squatting like an evil alien bat where once reigned the forty kings that made France, it’s hard for me to forget this otherwise trifling confection. Of course I assume the author had something entirely different in mind. But you never know.

In any case, our patriotic magicians remain hard at work:

Part of the problem is that mass media in Scandinavia (and elsewhere) allow massive quantities of hatred by anonymous/pseudonymous commentators to be attached to almost any article in the web editions of their publications. That is a marked shift for the publishing standards previously used for letters columns.

True, you can’t stop hate speech on all of the internet. But there is arguably a big difference between hate speech on fringe sites populated mostly by violencemongering racists/islamophobes and giving such individuals space in the comments section of large papers. That only gives them a sense of breakthrough and the comment section format makes robust counterargumentation not very likely. Papers ought to either ban anonymous comments altogether or hire enough moderators to be able to keep up with a very strict moderation 24/7.

Indeed. You’d think it would be trivial just to configure a filter which detected the word “Tigana”—replacing it with the correct “East England,” simply ditching the post, or more proactively alerting the relevant authorities. Alas, there’s no limit to the typographic tricks of these scoundrels. Fortunately, many socially conscious Europeans are already seeking employment. Now that we’ve seen the dangers, I’m sure this little newspaper thing will be solved toot sweet.

But concerned Americans may be surprised at the extent of information terrorism in East England. It’s for our own good, of course. America is the Jedi nation, and it’s natural that we fear the ancient peril of the Sith. If we knew how strong they have already become, in their old nest of East England, the cold reality might paralyze us into inaction. Can we ever forget that 250 years ago, America herself was nearly conquered by this foul pseudo-nation? Those days are over, of course. But if we are too quick to forget them, they might return.

For instance, I’d be surprised if there are a hundred Americans whose noble souls have been lost truly and for good to the utter darkness of reaction. That’s not much of a reactosphere—more like a reacto-dot. When I search for the word réacosphère, however—yes, misspelled, I know, with the odd marks of East England’s funny old dialect—I get—wait for it— 185,000 hits. Is that disturbing? Or is that disturbing? Don’t forget, these same people came very close to killing George Washington.

Fortunately, one patriotic East Englishman is on the case. He has identified the central hive or Death Star of this hateful “réacosphère”—or as more socially conscious East Englishmen put it, fachosphère (I trust no translation is necessary). This is the notorious François Desouche. The identity of M. Desouche is not known. He is known to be a racist, however.

Fortunately, as an American I am unable to read East English—actually now illegal in many states. But like everything American, our computers are the best in the world, and can translate this horrible gargling muck with mechanical precision, saving my tonsils from carcinogenic hate speech. In fact, I suspect that Google’s algorithms have actually improved this material.

Otherwise, it would surely have already done the trick, as M. Desouche is still out there abusing our tolerance. Whereas just from the picture, it’s clear that East Englishmen have always known what to do about hate speech:


The caption reads:

The abuse of freedom of expression is a crime. Blogress arrested, 1832.

We must remember that those who tolerate intolerance abuse tolerance itself, and an enemy of tolerance is an enemy of democracy. If this isn’t obvious to East Englishmen, perhaps we still have a few B-24 Liberators in the hangar somewhere. Remember—freedom isn’t free.

But let’s let this brave young East Englishman say his piece:


Far be it from us to make amalgams shame or stigmatize anyone. But still. The [East English]–born, or under-dog, native to this country or shabby, is a young low-skilled, uneducated, unemployed, inbred, [East English], old, severely retarded, warty, syphilitic, illiterate, full of phobias, addictions and racist pedophiles who complacently lounging in a sea of ​​ignorance for living idly nauseating stench in a cave to vapors of wine, eating his feces, screaming loudly patriotic songs and German patiently accumulating his boogers as appetizers for holidays: Gandhi’s death, discovery of the AIDS virus, the anniversary of his piranha Adolphe, eruption of Mount Vesuvius, the disappearance of a protected species, air disaster.

Jesus! The only bright spot is that no one in America matches this description—thanks, we can only assume, to our strict border controls. Still, the Internet is a loophole. How was I even able to access this post, for instance, without a research authorization? More can always be done. More needs to be done:

Pest, the native [East English], because of its puny and stunted body size, has only one interest in pharmaceutical clinical trials or as an extra in major films such as Gremlins and Troll 2. Outside the daily cleaning of his collection of cast iron blocks, the native [East Englishman] loves: his cheese rind, remembering his vacation on the Atlantic Wall, shine his boots, clean your terrarium cockroaches, watch hangings of ’homos on Iranian television, see Haitians small slam of Cholera, and shine his boots yet.

Frightened by the Enlightenment, it moves at night in his Panzer Used Tune blue-white-red and think go unnoticed by covering the sound tracks of powerful Wagnerian arias. Constantly in search of baby seals skinned alive in Africa to its mandibles racist, his little eyes anxiously scans the web vicious foul, attracted by the smell of the innocent who would come bogged down in the dark belly of the still fertile zeurlépluzombres.

Google tells me that this last word, or “word,” has only been used once on the Internets. Whatever the truth is—I’m pretty sure I couldn’t handle it:

That’s why we say: sub-dogs are idiots and need to be silenced. Protect our democracy. Stop the stereotypes, stigma, looking for scapegoats to evade our responsibilities and shortcuts are easy to stifle debate. Because all together in the Living Together, we defend the diversity that enriches us close mixed as millions of small sticks and colored sugar.

All together in the Living Together! Sub-dogs are idiots and need to be silenced!

M. Derville then cites a long list of responsible East English authorities who have already signed his petition—such as the famous King of East England, Henry IV, well-known for his epigram: “Paris is worth a mosque.” I would include this, but come on—it’s East England. All these peasants put together aren’t worth one authentic State Department cable.

We also learn more about the notorious M. Desouche:

François Marcel Desouchitsyne is a [East English] blogger and dissident, author of A Day of Lawrence Moucharovitch Archipelago and salads. In 2015, he was sentenced to eight years in rehabilitation in the death camps of tolerance for “business information”, after setting out on his blog policy Martine Aubropovitch “Titans”. In a post intercepted by the Halde, François Desouchitsyne criticized the “génialissime Marshal, best friend of mankind” (according to official qualifiers) alliance with Joseph Sarkopovitch purges and so-called “positive” conducted as part of the operation “Tolerance immutable.”

His novels The Last Celt and The Pavilion Jounaleuh and the twelfth volume of his historical epic on the media, Mud Bouge, appear in Asia and won him the Nobel Prize for Literature in 2020, it will reward that after being expelled from UERSS. His life becomes a permanent conspiracy to steal the right to inform the hunt despite more diligent of the Ministry of Love, and convicts of Chicha.

In 2024, when he is wanted in the case of small tubes Caribbean Myrha the street, it is hosted by a Sanglierovitch. He missed being assassinated December 25, 2024 by a real bearded / false Santa Claus. One of his closest colleagues, Robinovitch, narrowly escaped an assassination committed by the past participle of the Truands Grammar aboard a Zeppelin steam en route to Tibet. The attack is a serious injury: Bernard Pivot, who was drinking quietly in a chamomile 10 000 km away. Appeared in 2027 in Shanghai Archipelago salads, extensive book outlining the nature of the media and unambiguous written between 2014 and 2017 on tiny sausage skins, one to one hidden in bins geraniums. In short, a life “entirely devoted to the service of Hate” in the words of the generous free Moucharovitch Laurent.

This material, as we see, is becoming extremely obscure. But no less disturbing:

The heroic little finger is then shown in a relic in the House of Martyrs intolerance. A wreath was laid before the Good bucket in memory of the illustrious Appendix promoted to the Legion of Honor posthumously. Minute of silence in schools. Flags at half mast. National mourning. Pinot at the bedside of proud, “father” of the hero, Martine Aubropovitch “Titine” barely hold back her tears. It declared war on the small Caribbean puddings “symbols of hatred.”

Sniffing the scrambles, the Council is not representative of blacks in [East England] and elsewhere denounced him as “an orgy of hatred Islamophobic” but is quick to warn against any “stigma small tubes Caribbean.” As vice alas: a misunderstanding, two thousand small West Indian were killed in pogroms anti-rolls following a fatwa. “It’s nerd ’comment on the GG on RMC who is responsible for Desouchitsyne does, however, no doubt in the tragic day of April 12 which saw the Appendix fall in battle. And Claude Askolobels on Radio One added, “the ogre is Desouchitsyne demiurgic of hatred.” Titin, she swears on the nail of St. Atrial to get your hands on “Desouchitsyne monster.” April 25, the overwhelming evidence is found in the cave of suspect guilty.

There is more. Read it. Or try. If you know the East English dialect, somehow (this is a red flag, so be sure to mask your IP) you could even translate in the comments section.

But finally, the colored sugar itself concurs, even more bravely, in M. Derville’s comments:

Hello Master, I agree with you Fdesouche must be closed, this site is a real misère.J did it thousands of copies-screen that I am at your disposal if you were going to process (I have blackened the comments written by my brothers for the sake of caution because frankly that I approve, they do not go by halves, and this could be detrimental to your action).

I am Honorary President of Truands of grammar, I applied to be President but the officers evicted me because I can not read or write. I got the post of Honorary President through him who wields the best grammar and sign the documents of the association of a sticker or it is written, 1,2,3 live Algeria, he had thought sign of a cross but it was strictly forbidden by the Imam. We were sore after that I had to make me do a cerclage of the anus and this is thanks to the fact that I pay all the money remaining on benefits (the rest is my man who sent them to countries where we have built a villa with pool all with a few white slaves).

It’s okay for the money because all Christian charities cater to the daily filling our refrigerator and clothing for the whole family with clothes, the rest are my little angels that are in the street “fell from a truck” as they say.

I’m 24, I’m black, forcibly married at the age of 12, without qualifications, unemployed mother of 14 cherubim that happiness! that made my apartment a beautiful branch of local African and traffic is prohibited in [East England] (I wonder why), a 7 rooms paid by the CIF (my third co-wife pays the residual is 1 euro per month). My little angels or détraquent burn every day lifts (among others) that are not quite luxurious for the building they are right but I’m following myself obliged to wrestle the 10 flights of stairs to climb the huge packages containing herbs from North Africa.

When I too rather than the garbage disposal is clogged, I send the oil from the fryer through the window the other day I even almost missed a small cheese-white under-dog, fortunately it disappeared from the neighborhood with his family, anyway the car his father had gone up in smoke, this poor fool than to enjoy the preferred benefits for a time go to the factory on foot, good riddance it is much better between us.

My dear man, a fervent believer, shows me every day how much he loves me, it strikes me that I am authorized by religious bruised from Monday to Sunday and it serves me, there is on Friday that I escaped because he will attend to their spiritual obligations without which he would burn in hell instead of being able to please the penis by 72 virgins. For Mother’s Day he gave me two dozen mops I’ve made a dress, as well as my neighbors are jealous.

I am very fulfilled in my life, the only downside of these are crap Fdesouche they are the real culprits, as it is said everywhere that their racist like all of the extreme right are responsible for the massacre in Oslo small innocent children, supervised by pro-Palestinian-playing innocently in the war (I saw it on the other unspeakable cloth Net Bivouac-ID) with a dirt Christian who is also the Masonic lodge and anti -musumans.

Because of this pest that eats pork and drinks wine, we find it hard to apply the commandments of our great God and our beloved prophet, it is imperative to destroy the nest anti-secular by any means. If you need help with logistics, you can count on my little angels we have a well stocked arsenal stashed in the corner of the madrassa.

No, I have exaggerated nothing, any more than you. Please put a cross where I have to vote.

Please put a cross where I have to vote! Or would that be sacrilegious? After all, Paris is worth a mosque…