Yeah, fuck you, FedEx. God damn it. You know, I got to. I was doing fine, by the way. I had actually manifested some Christmas cheer until I had to go to a fucking FedEx to send a form, a wet signature. I went in there, dropped the kids off at school. I was feeling happy, went in there, and, man, it's just. It's like walking into the deadlights. I think that's what they call it. An it just hitting a wall of oblivion. Worse than oblivion. Oblivion. You don't know you're there, it's oblivion, but somehow you're still in it. And you go in there, you gotta print some shit out. Why don't I have a printer at home, you ask? Cause those fuck up too. And in my mind, it's like I either wrestle with my printer at home, which never works. I've smashed printers with a hammer before, no joke. Back when I was having more problems emotionally regulating. And I just thought, yeah, it'll be easy. I'll go in here, I've got the thing in my email, just gonna print it out. Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no. You, you. You go in there and you got to. You email them. So you gotta. You get. You email, but you gotta email it, right? And another thing I don't like is. It's implied. You should just know this. Like, you should know how this shit works by now. Don't you know how to do that? What the fuck? You go in and you're. It's like, I don't know how to do this. So you email them, and then it's like within five minutes, we'll sends you a number. And then you go to another machine, you plug the number in. Your fucking thing prints for whatever reason, the thing, it wasn't going through, right? And just then, you're forced to be in there longer and longer. And I'm trying to do meta practice, which is in Buddhism, it's a way of cultivating compassion for those around you. It Works really well for people like me whose hearts just go fucking numb at the one bit of bad news you know, you work on. You're constantly trying to do that. And like I'm just trying to do like I'm trying to do. And I know this is condescending. I shouldn't even be doing meta for the person who works at FedEx, right? Like what, what? So you, you're just projecting your own misery on this person? Why would they be miserable? FedEx. I'm sure it's great to work at a FedEx. But I guess I'm thinking if I was her and worked at a FedEx, I also would have the expression she had on her face, which is the expression of somebody working in the sub basement of OpenAI who is just had like a super advanced general intelligence. Tell it some inarguable horrific reality that humans had yet to stumble upon. That's a look on her face. The look of someone who just realized the thing, whatever the thing is the thing. Like when you see the senators come out of the briefings where they've told them some shit about UAPs and they have this look on their face of Prof. It's not even horror. I don't even want to say Lovecraftian because eldritch horror. You've gone nuts. You've gone mad. Like you're gibbering and jabbering about the things that live outside of time. The senators, the look on their face is something even worse than that. Like somebody just told them you're silly Putty. Everything all human beings are is just some kind of hyperdimensional bit of Silly Putty that some advanced intelligence has been meddling around with in a playroom somewhere inside a black hole. And we're going to be discarded because they're sick of the toy. Like that kind of. That's the look on a FedEx workers face. Why? Because they're in the nexus. They're in the fucking nexus of default reality capitalism. Nobody coming into a FedEx is happy. You're in a fucking hurry. You got to overnight some shit. And so these are the thoughts going through my mind. I'm just thinking about the fact that in our age of advanced technology where you can E sign stuff, sometimes they don't want the E sign, they want the wet signature, which is a disgusting way to put it. Wet. A wet signature. It's. I don't know why that's gross. It's salivary, you know, Some glistening wet fucking signature. By the time I sign the stupid fucking thing with my scrawl of a signature, I. Here's where I start going nuts. If I take my iPad stylus and I sign it on, the iPad doesn't count. The same exact series of hand movements that create the scrawl of my signature is irrelevantized via the stylus going into the iPad. No, it's gotta be ink, and it's gotta be a pen on paper. The ink has to soak into the fucking paper. And then you're gonna. You're gonna FedEx it overnight. And then what is gonna happen? Somebody's just gonna copy that? That's it. They're gonna take the paper, run it through a scanner, digitize it. And it's not like they're gonna like, smell the signal, is it? We. So this is where you get stuck in these infinite meaningless loops that create the very fabric of so many of our lives. Infinite meaningless loops, like pure absurdity. This is what drove can move nuts. Because in the face of this, you've got to find meaning or not. So just go. Just become a fucking nihilist piece of shit. Or somehow you have to find meaning. And, you know, I don't know if I can, if I have the strength to find meaning in wet signatures at this point in my life. Do you then when you realize this is happening during fucking Christmas? See, it just. There's a name for this. I'm regressing. It made me regress a little bit back to a darker time in my life. Because there was a time when I hated Christmas. And just for all the reasons, all the cliche fucking reasons, everybody fucking hates it. And for a moment, it brought me back to that time. Like, this is horrible. It's the end of the year. We should all be celebrating. We should be in the streets on a variety of psychedelics. We should be. We should be all. No one should be working at this point. Everyone should be drunk, eating fucking turkey legs. I know that seems like hypocrisy, but fuck it. I'd rather eat a hundred turkey legs than spend two minutes in a FedEx right before Christmas. So then as I'm sort of moldering in the FedEx and realizing, wow, you really have a lot of shit tied up in your relationship with Christmas. I realized, like, man, this is such a tragedy. So many people. So many people are miserable right now. Miserable. This is when you gotta wrap up shit. At the end of the year, all this stuff, you're either feeling like alone in the most rotten way. You know, just in your. In your house, your apartment, everything's Fucking messy. You. I don't know. God help you if you just fucking had a breakup right before Christmas. God damn it, that sucks. Pining. Pining in your fucking apartment. Oh, that's the worst. Or you're estranged from your family or whatever. Or, you know, you're just rushing around trying to get shit for your family taken care of. You got Christmas parties and all this stuff. You're trying to participate in this imaginary festival. Because the idea, like in my fantasy of, like, a true festival, it's like everyone's breathing a big sigh of relief because the year's over and now you get to chill out. Not like you're fucking racing around from Target to Costco or whatever to get shit. You're just like, all right, another year. And the whole point of the goddamn thing is the fucking sun's being an asshole. Days are shorter. It's darker. In India, they have the Festival of Holly, I think is what they call it, the Festival of Lights. They have lanterns and colored lights and stuff. Because the human brain doesn't like it when it gets like this. The weather's all fucking weird. Human brain doesn't like it. Human brain likes light and sun, bright things, and then gets dark. So you compensate by cutting a fucking tree down and hanging electric lights on it in some sad, pathetic attempt to shake your fist at the infinite darkness that surrounds all things. Tell a story about gifts in Santa Claus or whatever. And then it does make you feel a little better, having a tree in your house. You're kind of connected to the woods. Smells good. But when you realize it's like all of this is being subverted by some invisible fucking bureaucratic hellscape that demands wet fucking signatures in front of everything, it really can put a limp in your swagger, you know? I don't like thinking about it, but when you look at, like you want to make something right, like, anytime you're inspired to make anything. Listen, I know you heard my song and you're thinking to yourself, well, you know, I could never make anything that incredible. You probably hear my voice and you're like, yeah, you know, you have the privilege to get vocal training. I can't sing like that. You sound like an angel. Like, yeah, so for you, of course, you could just make whatever you want because you're essentially a musical savant. And it's true. It's true. Icicle hit me in the head when I was a child. And after that, I started singing like that and talking like this. Incredible vocal range and control. But you can't let that stop you from wanting. When inspiration strikes, just make something. This is your. It's why you're here. You're not some separate thing, like they want you to believe the fucking number attached to you and some dumb name that your parents gave you. Duncan, no. Don't fall for that horseshit. You're not some separate puzzle piece scattered on the floor of some pizzeria because some kid had a tantrum because they wouldn't get him another Sprite. No. You're an inextricable part of the univers. Foreign. This episode of the DTFH has been brought to you by my dear friends at Amantara. Listen, Christmas is here, and if you don't hear the bell, it's a Polar Express reference. There is a possible way you can not only hear the bell, but meet for Santa Claus. I want to show you something fascinating here on the screen. What you're looking at is a picture of Amanita muscaria. This mushroom happens to be the exact same colors as Santa. Now, I know this might just sound like the dude who sells you nitrous at a fish show talking, but this is absolutely true. In northern Europe and Siberia, shamans literally wore red and white, harvested amanita, dried them in stockings by the fire. I repeat, stockings by the fire. And then delivered them to people's homes in the dead of winter. Yes, Santa Claus has his roots in this incredible mushroom. And I do mean incredible. Before I connected with Amantara, I'd heard about Amanita. Many people have probably heard of Amanita muscaria, but, you know, I was skeptical. It's legal. I'm not going to do anything. Wow. Was I wrong. Amanita is amazing. It works on the GABA receptors, which are the same neuroreceptors that the benzos work on. And it is a wonderful, wonderful, wonderful way to commune with the true spirit of Christmas. At the right dose, amanita can help you unwind without blowing up your sleep the way alcohol does. It smooths out stress, settles your body, enhances your dreams. Like your subconscious is putting on its very own nutcracker ballet. It gives you a peaceful, almost jolly mood. That makes sense once you realize Santa himself may have been vibing on these things. Yeah. Santa is real. Santa is real. Santa is real. Sorry, Amantara. That was not what I was supposed to say. Sent in a sinister way, over and over. If you want to work with this ancient holiday mushroom responsibly, the absolute best place to go is Amantara. These folks are the largest, most trusted Amanita Muscaria supplier in the United States. They've served over 45,000 happy customers, moved tens of thousands of kilos of Amanita, and they're supporting over 40 sourcing families around the globe. They're the real deal. Ethical, clean, consistent, and education focused. And I had one of my favorite conversations I've ever had with somebody who's supporting the show. We talked for over an hour. These people are awesome, and it's a great company. And of course, I have sampled their Amanita capsules along with other wonderful ethnogens that they are supplying, and they're incredible. Now, as always, you need to use this stuff responsibly. Definitely start slow, follow the dosing guides, and honor the mushroom spirit that has been dancing through human mythology for thousands of years. Amantaria keeps it simple. They offer 500 milligram capsules. Most people start with two or three capsules, around a gram to a gram and a half. Effects come in an hour or so and drift gently for six to eight hours. They're great. It's incredible. I was so pleasantly surprised by my experience with Amanita, and I think you will love it. Go to amantara.comduncan. that's amantara.com God, Duncan. And use the code Duncan, 22 for 22% off. Your first order. Again, that's Duncan, 22 for 22% Off. Check out the guides on the site for safe use tips, and as always, much love and happy holidays. And really, guys, do this responsibly. Thank you. Amantara Hare deshna. Expressing itself into time. And when you get inspiration, that's the universe wanting to express itself that much more. Yeah, so maybe your inspiration is to, like, fart in a bag and make your friends smell it. Fine. That's what the universe wants at that moment. You're part of the universe. So when you think about how in between refined versions of creating things and inspiration, there are probably a thousand forms that have to get filled out. Do you know how many forms had to get filled out to make Close Encounters of the Third Kind? One of the great movies about UFOs, I can't even imagine. I can't even imagine how many forms had to get filled out just to make There Will Be Blood. Offices full of fucking people looking at wet signatures and scanning them to make that one of my favorite movies of all time. When you think about that. Because for me, like, inspiration does not strike as much as I would like it to these days. I'm busy. But when it does, just one little delay can fuck the whole thing up. I hear the call of Dark Souls 3. I've started playing it again. It's a joy. And just that alone, that magnetic pull of Dark Souls 3, I could feel it right now. That's already getting in the way of the flow state. But then when I go into my studio, just a. A few extra things to plug in, and I'll forget whatever the fuck it was I wanted to make. And then you wouldn't have gotten this incredible song about FedEx. So when you add to it, wet signatures, forms fucked up lights, having to drive to some fucking place, mail something thrown in a fucking plane. You know what I mean? Like, maybe Tom Hanks should have fucking died in that show. You ever think about that? That. That's actually a horror movie. That's the whole point of all this. Was that Tom Hanks movie.
A (28:19)
Mark Cammons died of a heart attack. Could have been Martin Burgoyne who died from an AIDS related illness. Let me see if it was this guy, Mark Kammons. He seemed fun. He seems like a fun dude. Rest in peace, Mark Kammins. Let's get the fuck off this. I didn't mean to go into Frazzle Drip. You know, the problem is, inevitably you find yourself in a difficult predicament if you exist in modern times, which is you either have to, like, actively ignore things that are happening in the world, you think if you want to be happy, or you have to open yourself fully to the totality of all data that you can take in. I'm not saying you shouldn't curate what data you take in, but surely the answer to dealing with the absurdity that seems to go hand in hand with modernity is not to turn yourself into an oath, to ignore it, to not allow yourself to feel completely this sort of weird horror. When you recognize the amount of minutes and hours in your life that will be spent on forms, you must deal with that. You don't want to do the thing people do when they're in horrible situations and just disassociate. Which I think is why so many people have turned into sort of machines that are just pure reaction, you know, it's easier that way. Habit and reaction. That's one way to get out of the problem. You know, you want to. You want to go to the happy place when you're at the FedEx. You know, just numb down, don't even be there. Just turn into a robot, a signing robot, or. You have to find meaning in the absurdity. This is Camus. This is existentialism. First you have to see it plain. Then you do the pull up, the philosophical pull up, if you will, and you find some kind of meaning. And what is the meaning? You're not going to find it in a form, are you? You're not going to find it filling out some stupid form. You could try to go tick, not Han. I guess you could recognize that the paper used to be a tree and the ink in the pen was. Was created somewhere by people. And the pen and all the people and the. And like all the interconnectedness. You can see interconnectedness. But that's not going to save you from absurdity. You know what I mean? You zoom all the way back. You're in some spatula in a dumpster. You don't want to be some discarded spatula. I don't care how interconnected you are. So that's not the answer, is it? No, I don't think so. You have to find meaning. And that brings us to the spirit of Christmas, Merry Christmas. Merry Christmas. But I didn't. Wait, we'll do that after I get through the. This is a hump. This is like in public speaking, you do this part and then you get to the other part, the catharsis. You see? But first you have to illustrate the issue here. The issue is on one level, the holidays are like a steaming pile of basil. Beezlebub shit. Beelzebub the fly demon. I believe he's a fly. Can you pull up a picture of basil bub Beezle bubble. I mean, one of my favorite, as far as names go, of a demon is Beezlebub. Oh yeah, there you go. Beezlebub. He looks like his name. If that was my kid, I'd probably name it Beelzebub. Beelzebub. Beelzebub. Let's pull his Wikipedia. I wouldn't want to step in a pile of Beelzebub shit. Here we go. Baelzebub, Beelzebub, Beelzebul, Beelze' l Bulb, and occasionally known as the Lord of the Flies, is a name derived from the Philistine God formerly worshiped in Ekron and later adopted by some Abrahamic religions as a major demon. That's probably an exciting day when you're a demon and you're like, I'm a major demon now. They just, they promoted me. Beelzebub is known in demonology as one of the seven deadly demons or seven princes of Hell. Beelzebub represents gluttony and envy. The dictionary Infernal describes Beelzebub as being capable of flying, known as the Lord of the Flies, Lord of the fliers, or the Lord of the flying demons. He's also referenced in the well known novel Lord of the Flies by William Golding due to his ties to hell and themes from the book. The source for the name Beelzebub in the Book of Kings written Beelzebub referring to a deity worshiped by the Philistines in the city of Ekron. Fucking Ekron. We worship Beelzebub. This is Ekron, bitch. The passage notes that King Uzziah of the Northern Kingdom of Israel, after seriously injuring himself in a fall, sent messengers to inquire of Beelzebub, the God of the Philistine city of Ekron, to learn if he would recover. Fucking people were really stuck stupid back then. Send a messenger to the. Send a messenger to Acheron and see if he can ask his bee God if my wound will heal. Isaiah fell through a lattice in his upper chamber at Samaria and was Injured? How do you do that? What you doing up there? How do you fall through a lattice, you clumsy shit? Isaiah. The fuck are you doing up there? So he sent messengers whom he instructed. Go inquire of Basil Bub, the God of Ekron, whether I shall recover from this injury. It's like a weird dream. You write down Elijah, then condemned Isaiah to die by God's words, because Isaiah. This is hilarious, because Isaiah sought counsel from Beelzebub rather than from God. Like you. When you. You think it can't get worse, you fall through your lattice. You get a messenger to go ask the fucking bee demon if your wound's going to heal, and then this motherfucker curses you to die because you asked the wrong God if your bone's going to get better. An angel of God said to Elijah, the tish bite, go and confront the messengers of the King of Samaria and say to them, is there no God in Israel that you would go and inquire to Basil Bub, the God of Ekron? Assuredly. Thus said God, you shall not rise from the bed you're lying on, but you shall die. Wow. That's the dumbest story ever in my fucking life. I don't even know how to do like a Joseph Campbell on that and make it like a multi layered message. That's just stupid. Can you pull up lattice for me, Josh? Because I need to understand what the he fell through before he can break this story down. Lattice.
A (36:02)
Just Google lattice. I mean, I lattice. L, A, T, T, I C, E, not lettuce. Lattice. A repeating regular arrangement of pointers. So it's like a fence. It's like some shitty roof. I guess he just climbed up there. To what? I want to know that story. That's a problem with the Bible. They leave the important parts out. A framework of crisscrossing strips used for privacy. Look up lattice roof. What's he doing up there? Oh, there you go. So he just climbed up on his roof. Probably wanted sunbathing or something. Fell through, broke his leg, didn't know if he's going to get better. Couldn't deal with the suspense. Sent somebody to go talk to a fly demon. Another dude found out and was like, what the fuck, man? That's the. You should come directly to my God, not that fly demon. The point is to get back to absurdity. First you have to acknowledge what's happening around you. Don't ignore it. Let yourself do the basic bitch analysis of Christmas. It sucks. Don't trick yourself. Even if it is great. It's like the amount of energy that you're putting into getting a few jolly cozy feelings seems not worth it. The ticket price is too high to get a few, like, mellow feelings. So let yourself feel all that shit. I guess that's the first answer. And then at some point, as you cross that abyss, as you confront the reality that in the reality tunnel that most people seem to be hanging out, there's a kind of enforced law that you're supposed to be all fake smiley and shit and give gifts, and this is the giving time, then once you recognize that, that's where you start realizing, yes, so what? I mean, it sounds. So I'm going to just like. This is like a high school observation. But at some point, you realize the material world is not going to make you happy. That's the reason everyone's seemingly so miserable around Christmas and stressed out is it's like there's some expectation that the result of this holiday is you're gonna feel better. And you're not. It's not gonna make you feel better. Nothing will. In fact, in the material world, and that's where you get into the true spirit of Christmas. But to get there, you can't get there by being some dumb fucking shithead thinking if you turn your Christmas music up lo feel better, it's not going to work. You can't enjoy Christmas music until you cross the abyss, friends. And to cross the abyss, you got to stare Wilson right in his bloody fucking eyes. You gotta. You gotta acknowledge the fact that there could be a very real possibility that what we know of as reality is similar to the Internet, the thing we call the Internet. It's not the fucking Internet. It's the tip of the iceberg. There's all kinds of things that the web crawlers don't identify. It's called the dark web. Similarly, we might all just be living in the Google Internet. You know, we go to the same places, we take the same route to go wherever the fuck we're going. We're in this kind of very small little loop that is a socioeconomic loop, because there's other places we'd like to go, but we can't. We don't have the money. We've got to fucking pay our mortgages and our rents, and there's no way out of that, really. There's no way out of it. And maybe the reason that we are confronted with people begging at overpasses is maybe the reason that this. You would think in a country like America, you could easily take care of that shit. Maybe the reason it's not taken care of is not because it's an unfixable problem. Because you need a constant reminder to everybody in the part of the hive that we're in that if you take a few wrong turns, that's where you end up. So get in line, bitch. Maybe that's why it's there. A sort of like, yeah, look. Look what can happen to you if you don't do everything right and fill out your fucking forms and send them in on time. That could happen to you. And so maybe, maybe you have to deal with the fact that outside of what you know of as reality, there's a whole other game going on. There's people flying right above you right now in a private plane, eating foie gras, drinking champagne. They've got four pounds of cocaine the likes of which you will never have the pleasure of insulating. And nobody is going to arrest them for that. They're just flying it to wherever their chateau is for a nice Christmas party. And maybe when they're at the Christmas party, they're going to eat the face off a child. That's just part of the fun. I don't know if it's true. Hope not. But why not? And we get to just peer through this little keyhole into the world that we're in. So first you must deal with that, I guess you have to go full dark. You have to imagine that horrors beyond your comprehension are happening at every moment, just outside your periphery. You won't see it. You're not ready for it. You peon. You could never understand why we have to chew the faces off children from Beelzebub. And so you have to allow yourself to just deal with the fact. Well, if it's. Maybe that's not the case here on planet Earth. But we live in an infinite universe. Wouldn't surprise me if there's some planet full of demons hatcheting the heads off of infants just for fun. And then once you allow yourself to go all the way dark, then that's where you can find the Christmas spirit. Now that brings me to the part of where I wanted to talk about the Polar Express. The Polar Express is a kids book and maybe you've seen the movie with Tom Hanks. Now in this kid's book, basically this kid fucking goes on a train in his pajamas and the train takes him to the North Pole. Yeah. Pull up, pull up the picture from the Polar Express. There's Tom Hanks. Good man. And the kid gets taken on A train to the North Pole. Where? Spoiler, by the way, skip ahead if you were planning on watching the Polar Express, which happens to be re released in the theaters right now. He goes to the North Pole on this train filled with kids. Their parents don't even fucking know they're on the train. Their parents are fucking sleeping. They're on some fucking train. Can you pull up that picture of Tom Hanks? Foreign. This episode of the DTFH has been supported by my friends at Better Help. Listen, the holidays can be really hard on people. Even if you're surrounded by friends and family, you're still dealing with all the weird stress and pressure that emerges during the holidays. But you might be somebody out there like me who gets a little weird when the seasons change. And listen, I know I've said it a million times. Therapy works. It worked for me, it can work for you. And if you're someone who gets depressed or freaked out or weirded out during the holidays, you should think about giving yourself the gift of therapy from BetterHelp. I'm sorry, but I don't want to be messing with Christmas traffic and holiday traffic when I'm going to therapy. BetterHelp fixes that. You can do it all from your own home. They match you with a great therapist. You just fill out a questionnaire. You can change the therapist at any time so you don't have to go through what can happen when you're looking for a therapist. Would you drive to some therapist? You're like, we're not vibing. And then you gotta drive to another. And you know what? If you're somebody struggling, that can be enough to make you just check out of doing therapy at all. It's a genius way of getting people the help they need. This December, start a new tradition by taking care of you. Our listeners get 10% off@betterhelp.com Duncan that's betterhelp.com Duncan thank you, BetterHelp. There you go. Oh, why the Polar Express 2 is taking so long? I'm sorry. Tom Hanks is the conductor in the movie the Polar Express. But I'm sorry. Like, if I found out my boy got on a fucking train with that motherfucker, I would be pissed. I would be pissed at him, I'd be pissed at my kid. Do not in your pajamas. Who is that guy? Why is he hauling kids around without fucking? Like, what did you tell him you have allergies? Anyway, the point of the Polar Express is the train takes a bunch of kids to the North Pole and it's filled with elves. And then, I guess Santa picks one fucking kid every year, and that kid gets anything he wants. And this. This kid, he asks for a bell from one of the reindeers, like one of their jingle bells or whatever. It's like he knows he could get anything he wanted. Anything he could have asked for, like a thousand Bitcoin. This is fucking. He asked for a bell. And Santa cuts a bell off a reindeer. And the kid pockets the bell. Here's the spoiler. The bell falls out of the kid's pocket. So he gets on the train, he realizes he lost the bell. He had a hole in his fucking pocket. And he gets back home, and what do you know? There's a little present there with the bell in it. But guess what? His parents can't hear the bell. Only, like, people who believe in Christmas can hear that jingling of that bell. And even as he got older, his sister stopped hearing the bell. But he never stopped hearing the Christmas bell. Now, can you pull up what demons are associated with bells? Yeah, I was hoping something creepy would come up.
A (48:18)
It says shut the fuck up. Anyway, the point is, you can't hear the bell in FedEx. You want to hear that jingle and sweet fucking bell. You're not going to fucking hear it until you understand that you. You can feel any way you want to feel. That's the essence of the thing. That's how you combat the absurdity. You can actually imagine, just for shits and giggles, that in fact you have been wrapped in the coils, the serpentine coils of the demiurge just for fun. I'm not saying that's what's happened. That you have been enfolded in an infinite field of personified illusion that has as its number one goal, that is trying to distract you, confuse you, and most importantly, undermine your ability to recognize how much power you have in the universe. That's the only power it has. It can't stop you because you're matter and it's just a phantasmal fucking thing. And what it wants you to do is to feel despair. That's what it wants. It wants you to feel beaten down. It wants you to feel hopeless, useless, and completely lost. That's its goal. That's all it wants to do. It wants you to feel distracted. It wants you to go down as many dead ends as it can possibly get you to go down. Now you'll know what I'm talking about. If you've ever dealt with the VA when you have A parent who is in the military, who is dying, have some fun by working with a VA to try to get your parents some fucking help. And you'll understand what I'm talking, talking about infinite forms. And you'll find it too. If you go to see when my dad was passing one of them. There are many sad things about it, but one of them was the stack of forms that he had been attempting to fill out to get help from the va. What ends up happening with the bureaucracy when it comes to things like the VA or health insurance is that the more forms you make sick people fill out, the less likely it is that they'll survive to where you actually have to pay to get the medical care. It's an accident. We didn't mean it like that. It just happens that if you send a senior citizen a fucking manila envelope filled with forms demanding that they go to a FedEx to fucking get wet signatures on shit and send it when they can't fucking breathe, the odds are pretty good that they're gonna kick the bucket before you have to pay money. And you save so much money that way, it's an accident, but you save tons of money. So imagine that that is just one of the many manifestations of this thing that we've all been trapped inside of. And then that's where you will stumble upon what Camus had stumbled upon, which is this spirit of rebellion. You realize, like, oh, that's all you got? Yeah, sure, I'm a hamster in some kind of fucking hyperdimensional hell maze, running from form to form, working 40 hours a fucking week, working, working, working, working, working, so I can retire. But the retirement age keeps going up. And by the time I can even fucking retire, I'm not going to be able to see or think. The only joy I'll have in life is taking benzos and watching golf. So you recognize that, and it will fill you with a kind of spirit, the Christmas spirit. It'll fill you with the realization that in the midst of it all, you can still find joy, happiness in the little things, not the big things in color and sound and smell, in your feet touching the ground. And then instead of referring to the external coiled, scaled, pulsating beasel bub, you might be trapped into hoping for some happiness. Hoping that the demon raises one of its meaty fucking flaps up and let you suckle on its nipple, which fills your mouth with synthetic garbage that's supposed to make you feel better. New cars, a better apartment, a better house, better clothes, new boyfriend, new girlfriend, a Six pack, whether it's your stomach or an actual six pack, you find something primary that you can make contact with. And then when you find that primary thing, that fucking serpent has no more power over you. Which is where Camus points out quite brilliantly that Sisyphus, who was doomed to push a boulder up a hill and watch it roll back down for eternity, was more powerful than the gods. Because Sisyphus, in the midst of such absurdity, could smile, could find meaning in it, could make his own meaning. My friends, that's how you hear the fucking bell. And that's the Christmas spirit. So I want to invite all of you, if you're interested in participating in a little experiment, a little bit of culture jamming, I guess you could say, just even if you're too busy to do it, especially if you're too busy to do it, I want you to go to your local FedEx. I want you to go to the computer terminal there. It's a little cubicle scan your card. You have to do five dollar increments. And I want you to subscribe to the DTFH on YouTube from a FedEx. Go in there, and the whole time I want you to smile, but not fake smile. I want you to exude authentic joy and happiness as you subscribe to my podcast and like that thumbs up thing down there. And then if you do that, you will participate in an open rebellion against the forces of evil that are actively attempting to subvert what is so special about humanity itself. And all of this is expressed plainly in the pyramids. Now, if you really want to, like, get a taste of what I'm talking about, the Demiurge, before you go and do this little experiment, I want you to go to Mr. Beast's page. How many subscribers does he have? Now, Josh.
A (58:14)
There you go. 100 pilots fight for a Private Jet. So this, my friends, is why, number one, we have to recognize anytime Mr. Beast uses pyramid symbols, it is a direct pushback against the global movement that we are all participating in, known as Operation Beast Blast. And what we're doing here, and you're part of it, thank you for being here, thank you for listening, is we are going to get more subscribers than Mr. Beast on the DTFH, YouTube. We're gonna do it. We're gonna do it. And the more subscribers we get, the more fun we're gonna have. Cause the more subscribers you get. That means that the algorithm suggests your podcast to more people. And that means normies are going to start showing up here in the comments in the thread, and the normies are going to say things like, what wut? What the fuck? That's fun. That's just part of the fun. The real fun starts when we exceed Mr. Beast's subscriber numbers and begin generating the revenue he generates every month from YouTube, which has got to exceed the gross, the gross capital of most countries. Billions, trillions. I don't know. Enough to buy the pyramids. That's all that matters. Then what are we gonna do? We're gonna buy the fucking pyramids. I'm already in negotiations with Egypt. They're very open, but they're not cheap, of course, the pyramids. And then we're gonna cut the fucking capstone right off the top of the fucking pyramids. That's what we're gonna do. And we're gonna fill the fucking pyramids with Diet Coke. I'm not sure if you put the Mentos in first or the. I think you put the Diet Coke in. I've been talking to physicists, I've been talking to technicians, I've been talking to archeologists, trying to get Graham Hancock on board. We're gonna fill it up with soda, and we're gonna dump Mentos into the fucking pyramids and we're gonna blow those motherfuckers up at the biggest festival this world has ever seen. No more pyramids. Gone. And this will be the event that catapults our planet into a state of perfect global harmony and consciousness. Because the pyramids are the reason things are so fucked up right now. It's not the President. It's not the economy. It's not Russia, it's not Ukraine, it's not lgbtq. It's not straight people, it's not white people, black people. It's not Jews, it's not Palestinians. It's the fucking pyramids. The pyramids are basically the dog shit on the shoe of planet Earth. If you ever had that experience, you step in dog shit, then you, you're driving, you're like, what the fuck, man? Why does my car smell like this? What the fuck is that? You drive for a while, you're like, did someone shit in my fucking car? Fuck you turn the air conditioner on. Is there mold or something? And then it occurs to you, oh, I have dog shit on my shoe. And now it's all over my fucking car. That's the pyramids. Subtle, but not so subtle. Really? You're just gonna let those things exist sitting out there? We don't know what, who made em, why they made em, with there's theories, the fucking hippies think the aliens did it, or they levitated em with sound. Who gives a fuck? I don't care how they fucking made em any more than I care to see the video of the dog. The that's on my shoe. I don't care how the sausage gets made, baby. If it's dog shit, it's dog shit. And we get rid of dog shit. Scoop it up, put it in the bag. Don't leave that in my yard, you asshole. And don't do the thing where you weirdly scoop your dog shit up and put it in the bag and then leave the bag on the side of the road. What the fuck is that? Throw it away. Thank you, DraftKings, for supporting the DTFH. It's the fight nobody saw coming. Jake Paul versus Anthony Joshua. I'm watching that live on Netflix. 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For additional terms and responsible gambling resources, see DKNG Co audio limited time offer. Thanks. DraftKings. We are going to throw away the dog shit of the pyramids and we're going to do it within the next 3,000 years. Based on how many subscribers I'm getting to this podcast, guys, we got to pick it up, got to pick up the pace. I know some of you are out there, some of you are doing rallies. Now. I appreciate that. It's not enough. The rallies need to be bigger. You could do better. For those of you who are doing nothing, then the next time some horrible fucking thing happens in the world, you're gonna have to look yourself in the fucking mirror and think, well, I didn't like that podcast. I didn't subscribe. I didn't participate in Beast Blast. And the pyramids are still here. You don't want to be that person, do you? You don't want to be that person. I don't. I won't be. I sleep like a baby at night. Fucking baby. Wake up screaming, fall back to sleep. And you could sleep like that, too, because you know you are participating. You know that when your grandkids say, did you have anything to do with Operation Beast Blast? You're gonna be like, yeah, I was one of the originals. I was there from the beginning. I organized my own rally. I created my own art. I created my own posters and flyers and graffiti, and I put it all over my town. Operation Beast Blast. I was part of it. It's more than a religion. It's more than a church. It's the future manifesting in the now. And I want you to be one of us. I'm talking to you. Specifically you, the person who accidentally stumbled upon this fucking podcast. And you've made it this far, and you're thinking to yourself, I don't know why I feel like I'm part of this. At first I just thought, what? Now I'm like, whoa, this is something bigger than I thought. Yeah, it is. It is. It's a global movement. We're gonna say fuck you to wet signatures. We're gonna say fuck you to meaningless trips to places to fill out forms. We're gonna say fuck you to the dmv. We're gonna say fuck you to the hive of bureaucrats currently sapping the life energy from our species. Like a giant fucking beezle bub with its proboscis jammed up some poor man's asshole penetrating deep in. Think of the Mr. Hands video. And we're gonna. We're gonna do that symbolically by blowing up the fucking pyramids. That's what it all comes down to. I wake up in the morning and I think to myself, I'm gonna blow up the pyramids in this lifetime. I can't do it alone. I'm just a man. I'm a simple man with a dream. And I need your help. Merry Christmas. Happy Hanukkah. Happy holidays. Happy Saturnia. Whatever dark gods you pray to, may they accept your offerings. But how can you really enjoy the holiday season if you have not joined us? Something to think about. Something to think about. Do you hear the bell ding? A ling. A linga. I hear it. Did you hear that? If you didn't, then you're not committed fully to this operation. May God be with you. Thank you so much for listening to the dtfh, for bearing with us through our many trials, tribulations, and changes, for understanding that no matter what form this podcast takes, it has and will remain the same. An arrow. An arrow in the quiver of God that will be used to launch a volley of sacred missiles right into the heart of evil on this planet. Which are the fucking pyramids. I love you. Merry Christmas. Any other questions about oil? I gotta get out of here and go. Have My dog's anal glands extracted. I'm not even joking. I gotta go get my fucking dog's butt squeezed. You know how much that.
