Jeez, CRC ... it's been a.. l o n g slog from the accretion-disk of [Sandy Reed's integrity-implosion-via-'NT'] as catalyzed a motley-band of Irascibles, over her Bizness-ethics writ large; I mean, early on 'we' had that young-Tech do the seppuku-thing (no friends to save him, in whatever basement?) now you want to rip-off someone else's epaulets--while within a health-holocaust as could catalyze enough RWNJ-BS to: actually further delay the facing of --> Teh Climate Death
[on a small G-star planet whose major-species remains: dumb as posts]
C'mon .. at least Try-for a bit of Scale & Relativity, eh? Obsession or brain-fart, then?

Was curious --within this indictment of 'Twitter'--as Home for jillions of kids-in-Mom's-basement, in full stream-of-unconsciousness--Talking-to-Self: just. how. long. his mono-auto-dialogue has been droning-on?

April 1, 2013 [Yes, That 'day'] Seven Fucking Years exactamente... as the scroll-wheel spins endlessly to Get There: this unbroken mental masturbation, signifying-Nothing
[and, en passant, with tiny-handful of any-other-Name than his, ..as might momentarily suggest a reader?/listener? .. cohort!??] Pitiful..
In all likelihood: those few entries are just another creation of his own (as at IWE). It seems that he Must chatter, so as to further the illusion that, "I Am-too! conscious!!".
(Delusional about 'delusion')

And you'd compare this basket-case with 1 (?) --> n here in LRPD-space?


..think I'd better grab the Bhagavad-Gita, re-read where the Prince, in company-on-horseback with Siva(!) in-mufti ... then, as the young man 's comprehension seems to have wavered: suddenly he Reveals-Self {in all indescribable Mega-Lumens}, and as: The Warrior [beloved-of J. R. Oppenheimer/Oppie ..for a more recent acolyte]
As. He. ROARS:

Look! I Am Become DEATH ... the Destroyer of Worlds