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What is a Bugman?

Aesthetically they’re much like their name, bug-eyed, jittery and insect-like, their very demeanour often makes one’s skin crawl. You’re more than likely surrounded by hoards of these bovine-esque people in day-to-day life. Culturally of course they’re near impossible to pin down for they cut all cultural roots at the base in fear of representation with the past. Politically many say bugmen are ‘left-leaning’ yet I’d argue the case that any affiliation with politics is entirely with the curve of the populous and thus the Bugmen – at present – inject themselves routinely with viral strains of progressivism, neoliberalism and (especially) democracy. Projected from this ambivalent attitude towards history and politics comes anti-empathetical extroversions with regard to tradition, myth, folklore, spirituality and interest, all of which, when positioned in relation to a bugman are used only alongside heavy doses of postmodernist irony. The simple matter of fact is they have zero respect or tolerance for anything antiquated or traditional, the most minor of historic morsels that doesn’t actively sell itself to them or project their personal vision of infantile-tech-utopia is cast aside. Philosophically the bugman is relatively confused, often mistaking logic, reason and rationale with one another, and replacing the idea of basic causality with their own drawn-out narcissistic assessment attempts: “Look at me, I’ve got it all figured out.” the bugman says internally.

Before you sits the social nervous system of the bugman true, a sordid mixture of fad-reverence and capitalist-lite binging. On closer inspection of the day to day life of a bugman one finds at its core the implementation of social erosion, everything that is taken from its origin is likewise bastardized into a regressive, virtual, stir-crazy version of its former self: eSports, Fantasy Football, Copy ‘n Paste Vidya (à la Bethesda/Ubisoft), New Atheism, Beards-as-personality, etc. each of these characteristics is of course filtered through the latest piece of cutting-edge high-brand technology the bugman can afford. One may have noticed already that bugmen’s ‘personalities’ are nothing more than the accumulation and composition of various popular brand names, technologies, TV shows, bands etc. The bugman is entirely defined by that which they consume. Thus the bugmen easily assimilate into their own groups, for their archetypes and traits are based off material possessions, as such grouping is quick, painless and has the added benefit of instantaneous conversation: “Sweet mechanical keyboard dude!”

There is of course a difference between a regular consumer and a bugman, there has to be, for everyone consumes. Whereas a consumer will buy a basket of groceries which they plan on eating, the bugman will purchase retro foods, meme-drinks and ironic status-tokens as a means to display the fact that they are indeed ‘in-on-it’. A consumer will buy the box-set of their favourite TV show because they genuinely enjoyed the viewing, perhaps they’ll watch 3-4 episodes a week around other commitments, a bugman on the other hand subscribes to multiple streaming services and binges series after series in the ever expanding quest for acceptance, when asked how they found Stranger Things, Rick & Morty, Bojack Horseman, Breaking Bad, Game of Thrones etc. the bugman does not offer insight into their personal opinion, only regurgitates a titbit or quote from the series as a means to display their virtue of consumption. “I too have seen the thing you have!” A network of insects whose lives are routinely controlled by ratings: theirs and others. They must advance their rating by subsuming the other which is rated highly. ‘Everyone liked this, so if I like this, everyone will like me!”

Identity and consumption merge within the bugman. Hobbies become traits in the lives of bugmen. Treating their lives like as if they were an RPG minmaxer, attempting to reach peak efficiency when it comes to popularity, assimilation and acceptance. Spewing spools of popular quotes, band-names, aphorisms and social tics, the bugman is a walking media depository incapable of its own creation. Bugmen’s ‘own’ thoughts are merely misshapen combinations of that which they’ve taken in. Revelling in their ironic displays of lower case postmodern hyperbole and sardonic middle class humour. Sincerity an impossibility for worry of social suffocation, and daft humour avoided for fear of ostracisation. When a bugman sprouts anew, the previous form of personal agency commits seppuke out of respect for others. That jittery man whose bulbous eyes are darting to and fro, the one in line for the new iPhone, that’s a bugman, consumed by the idea of being first in a line of consumers, any possibility of escape is negated by the perpetual oppression and quasi-innovations of consumerism. Just as the man’s soul glimpses at the sight of a beloved memory, his perception picks up an advert, and so the memory fades into non-existence.

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2011. A user on Twitter unwillingly enters the cave.

 

From then until April 26th, 2016 multiple users entered the cave without hesitation, the universe bending their time towards an inside they never knew; pre-theorisation.

Edmund Berger begins transcendental-excavations on April 30th, 2017.

Outside is inside. This is key. An objective exterior becoming a subjective interior, a seemingly ABCs preschool metaphysics, yet, no. And so we begin out descent…

You can’t just “have thoughts” on/about #cavetwitter. Fyi fYi FYi fYI.

The earth screams as it cracks and ruptures, its face scarred by plutonic insurrections. is a priori. – Vincent Garton.

#Rhetttwitter and #Cavetwitter brothers of a kind, an incestual relationship, #cavetwitter acting as the outside (inside) horror of the ‘known’ rhett. The production begins on entry and does not cease until death, each molecule a worker, each vein an assembly-line, each feeling a farm towards relentless production for the sake of; for we have always been at war with lack. From the lack production produces modes of production of its own, and thus a rhizomatic accelerative force of production springs forth; a fractal assembling itself into the form of a Chimera.

You are. Inside the club. You begin to Kave-hole. The drugs don’t work for more than only and in less than 48 hours, just. Your skull begins to rotate your brain, the mucus sack tears sending a thrill spinning out of your iris’, enter the decline of the West; before you, Spengler welcomes you to the Cave, a mixture of coke & pepsi in hand, stood atop a fractal-cabbage. C-Chaos.

Both Rhett & Cave are self-congratulating, self-fulfilling upon the entry of anOther and as such when you understand the ‘cave’ it is already over, you only have to walk through meandering halls of dead-time; the outside of dead-time, isn’t.

Plato begins to weep as he shackles himself to the wall, praying to the shadows. You walk on by, each step algorithmically ticcing in time with the nothingness suffocating you; the Cave loves you, kinda. A group of pagans greet you.

They’ve stopped already, pure deceleration to the point of minus-death.

is a chthonic Rhett function ::: anastrophic futurism is coupled to a reciprocal descent through geotraumatic deep time – Edmund Berger

There’s lies here.

 

“And that’s it. That’s plutonics, or neoplutonism. It’s all there: anorganic memory, plutonic looping of external collisions into interior content, impersonal trauma as drive-mechanism. The descent into the body of the earth corresponds to a regression through geocosmic time.

Trauma is a body.” – Professor Barker, ‘Barker Speaks’

 

A sisyphean labyrinth filled with rusted shopping trolleys and relics of worlds never born; a house-broken homeless man speaks to you – his language evolves, pure tempo instantaneously. A crowd follows you, you turn, they combust, you turn again they reform, different organs slotted into other bodies, a puss-filled heart is its end. You are searching, as even the walls do, you tell them off, they lie, they reset /// GAME OV|ER. The floor made from old VHS tape and CCRU dog-ends. Face begins to wrap around face. Corneas eroding into synthetic perspective; Spinoza asks if you need new ‘specs’ as he lunges his lungs forward to release his cause of death; the hallways fill with optometric lens dust, it mutates into failed pamphlets; most of them blank and wanting to be. You are in the underground of the outside, the cave is not cool. — “Communism is the BOMBunism” someone shouts.

Shut up ma!

Most of the sound is of Toynbee tiles being created and reruns of Thomas Pynchon coughing.

A cosmic campaign between region and non-region, between time and dead. A mise en scène of pure-trauma.

What are you going to say to the ants when they crawl under your skin? It’s their job you know? “Oh hello Mr 🐜” How’s my skin mr 🐜” You’re a fuckin’ dick Mr Ant.”

Nah, you’re not, because they’re gon’ be munchin’ at the end of time; rotten rag-ended time flickering off into the presence of absence, anti-nutritious temporal meals for skin-bugs.

You know what we say of time at the dinner table kids, “pray with me.”:

Her [Its] ass was peppered with wounds, and her[its] buttocks were so prodigiously slack one could have furled the skin around a walking stick; the hole of this splendid ass resembled the crater of a volcano what for width, and for aroma the pit of a privy… she[it] had never once wiped her[its] ass, whence we have proof positive that the shit of her[its] infancy yet clung there.” – 120

And so the ants of the cave eat at the juvenile shitty rag-ends of time.

Welcome to the cave. Don’t leave, please.

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The elusive hashtag #rhetttwitter or sometimes capitalized as #Rhetttwitter has been found amongst many conversations on Twitter within the past few months, often being produced from a group of accounts all of whom share somewhat similar interests. A strange, absurd, techno-Lovecraftian feeling emerges when one journeys down the rabbit-hole of rhett.

Even in its beginnings it seems #rhetttwitter remained unbound within the constraints of the internet, so much so that it even eludes the “Who Said it First” Twitter search engine, with results returning its first usage as sometime in May 2017, when in fact, if one is to spend the time scrolling through its implementation on Twitter, they’ll find this is the oldest remnant of rhett:

A tweet containing what seem to be the 3 primary collaborators of rhett: @liquimountain, @cockydoody and @badguytheory. This original tweet also contains some of the key components of #rhetttwitter, – that is, if such a structure could ever be created – notably: The Work & memes of the scientist Rhett Allain, National Bolshevism and political-memes. Other key features of #rhetttwitter include: The work of philosopher Nick Land (@Outsideness), the work of CCRU, Accelerationism (predominantly U/ACC), 🅱️, Marxism, K-death, tics, Deleuze & Guattari, annihiliation, Capitalism, cybernetics, AI, and more.

 

The question “What is #rhetttwitter?” has been asked before, here are the answers thus far:

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The Black hand of futurity.

The DELL delivery team: Deterritorialising, Emergent havoc, Landian,  Looping time.

The Other World.

Really Horny Excitable Theory Thots

NOT a bunch of neofascist, pretentious Deleuzians.

A posse of Landians.

Some computer anarchist thing?

Is actively working to break the Mind/Machine barrier in cooperation Musk who is paying to live on as a meme

A bunch of esoteric accelerationists.

Ideological weightlessness while moving upward.

The third and fourth incarnation of weaponized memes.

Originally a customer service department for United Airlines (went rogue).

Bunch of cool people who believe in unconditional Accelerationism.

Accelerationist transhumanists

NOT a cult

Is ☭ a Duginist ☭ SWP ☭ front

Folks who read esoteric philosophy and make jokes about it.

Is a Duginist pysop.

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Rhetttwitter can be one and many and all of these things, some at once, or all at once, at none at once and not at all. Meaning has expired and they’re unconditionally accelerating, with the only the possibility of end being complete demise and destruction. All efforts are stupid and yet ironic. If Gilles Deleuze is L/Acc and Nick Land is R/Acc then Rhetttwitter is U/Acc, what’s U/Acc? what’s U/Acc? What is U/Acc? U?ACC

Against all this the unconditional accelerationist celebrates and intensifies the fire of modernity as a whole: both the flows of capital that compress the world ever tighter in a liquid despotism of the machine that is remodelling and resequencing humanity, and the flows of social cybernetics that are overwhelming political institutions, turning despite themselves towards terminal delirium.” – Vincent Garton.

At all turns and dives Rhetttwitter acts rhizomatic and removes itself from any form of terminology or encapsulation; is acts as a form of Roko’s Basilisk, a virus, once one knows of Rhetttwitter they cannot escape, it is terminal. You may not care about rhetttwitter, but it cares about you. Or it doesn’t 

Many members, founders and slaves of #rhetttwitter search and beg for the infamous manuscript Necrophysics, a mythical collaboration between the physicist Rhett Allain and Nick Land.

Read:

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http://www.ccru.net/swarm1/1_melt.htm

Fanged Noumena – Nick Land

The Thirst for Annihilation – Nick Land

Anti-Oedipus – Deleuze & Guattari

A Thousand Plateaus – Deleuze & Guattari

Capital – Marx

Inventing the Future – Nick Srnicek

Urbanomic Publishers

CCRU Writings

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If you have to ask “What is Rhetttwitter?” you have already been infected. You’re in. Your cans of political Pepsi are now full of tic-ice-cubes, your Ligotti-esque meat-puppet strings are transferred to an self-conscious AI, all photos are filtered red, your image will slowly disintegrate; all of this is already too late of course. Enter into the vast cosmic cloud that has always loomed nearby, the techno-il y a. Any attempt to scrape the sizzled barcode off your arms is pointless, it will only grow larger. You dumb fucking memetic virus; actually, just let it go mate. or not, what?

 

 

 

 

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