#anything that makes me laugh this much deserves a reblog #Umineko #murder cw? #this probably deserves some other warning tag but I am not sure what #this post was queued because my to-reblog list is too long and I didn’t want to dump it on you all at once


A Review of The Way Of The Shadow Wolves: The Deep State And The Hijacking Of America by Steven Segal

Alleged rapist and human trafficker, cop groupie, washed-up action movie star, and personal friend to Vladimir Putin, the paradox of Steven Segal is how he manages to stick around despite being –by damn near every account– a universally unpleasant vacuum of charisma. I could go on, but I feel that no introduction of Steven would be complete without the tale of the headlock. Legends tell of Steven’s conflict with legendary martial artist and hollywood stunt coordinator “Judo” Gene Lebell. Allegedly, the two fell into an argument on the set of the film Out For Justice. The crux being Steven’s claim that he was “immune” to being choked unconscious. Allegedly, LeBell called his bluff, and put the actor in a headlock. A headlock that resulted in Steven losing consciousness, and control of his bowels. Steven denies the story. He also wrote a book.

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The book is garbage, but garbage in a way that can be easily overstated. I wanted to take a page from other reviewers of this book, and call the text what it is; a fever dream of exhausting mediocrity, swaddled in delusions of grandeur. I wanted to whale on it. I wanted to denounce it like some ridiculous fire-and-brimstone preacher of internet literary criticism. But this does not capture the core, the essence of Way of the Shadow Wolves. There is a paradox at the heart of this text, a contradiction that even now I struggle to describe. Because despite everything, despite the balls-to-the-walls premise, the disastrous prose, and the buckwild plot, this book is deeply and powerfully boring. To call it a fever dream is to imply that it might be exciting.

Some books are bad in a way that must be experienced firsthand. This is not one of those books. In a way, I feel that you’ve already read this book. You know Steven Segal. You met him in elementary school, when he told you he has “every black belt.” You met him in college when you tricked him into smoking a bag of oregano. You met him at your most recent family gathering, where you were trapped in an awkward one-sided conversation about “those people.” The bad-ness of Steven’s work is deeply familiar.

We have our boots. We have our waders. We have our shovels. But, before we wade into the shit, there is one more thing we need to get out of the way: The Shadow Wolves are real. In 1972 the United States government agreed to the Tohono O’odham Nation’s demand that border enforcement agents patrolling their land have at least one quarter native ancestry. The result being the specialized unit of Immigration and Customs Enforcement officers known as The Shadow Wolves. In the 2020 Sonic the Hedgehog film, Dr. Eggman states that they are who trained him in the art of tracking.


Let us cook Way of the Shadow Wolves from scratch. Think of every dogshit C-list action movie you’ve ever seen. Ideally, you want the trash cuts of post-9/11 hysteria marbled with ex-cia heroes and vaguely arab villains. Drop it all into a stockpot. Next, roughly dice some comic books and kung-fu movies, the more racist the better. Now add some datura, it doesn’t matter if it’s edible or not, because you saw a native American in a movie make something like that once and you’re totally 1/64th Cherokee. Add a whole can of Qanon and a whole can of racism. Boil until you have pacing thicker than mud.

Way of the Shadow Wolves is a police procedural meets a spy thriller, a fast-paced action drama about elite agents on the fringes of the law who have the huge sweaty meaty balls to do what needs to be done for our country. It is Steven’s attempt at the action schlock he embodies as an actor. Our hero is John Gode: Shadow Wolf. Reservation-born native American tracker, ICE agent, and Kung-Fu master. I believe he might have been described at one point. If he was, I do not care. Steven does not care. It does not matter. John Gode is Steven, and he’s the most badass dude to ever not be gay. He is: Special Agent Shaman Cop. He’s gonna beat up the deep state. That’s all you need to really need to know. In fact, it is shocking just how little you need to know about this book.

We begin in a movie theater, where our protagonist is alone, watching the end credits of a movie about the atrocious treatment of native Americans on behalf of the united states government. When the film finally ends, John says to himself “It’s about time.” He gets up to leave. The chapter immediately ends. My compliments to the chef. A delightfully bland apéritif of a character introduction. Steven uses the essential point of first contact with our protagonist to tell us vital information like “He doesn’t like it when movies are long.” or maybe “He didn’t like this movie about the trail of tears.” It is unclear. To quote English-Albanian philosopher Dua Lipa, “Go girl, give us nothing.”

I have been dancing around the quality of the writing. It seems impossible to approach without the footing of a new paragraph, an opponent that requires full-focus, an all-out assault. It is nigh-incomprehensible. I hate comparing bad writing to drugs. It feels too easy. But there is a specific air to Way of the Shadow Wolves. There is a distinct cadence, simultaneously manic and lethargic, that comes from attempting to write while day drunk on over-prescribed amphetamines. And make no mistake, if Steven was not entranced by the muse of Too Many Uppers And Downers At The Same Time, if he wrote this thing stone sober, that is worse. Small quotes will not do the writing style justice, you must see for yourself how sentences flow into each other:

“The desperado’s mind went back in time to a small town in Mexico twelve years before, where he first met his two cohorts when they were thrown together by a tragic set of circumstances. Their parents had been gunned down by a cartel who was at war with a competing cartel for control of the area, which was a pathway to the American border near Nogales, Arizona. All three had been shepherded to a local mission where they were being cared for by the Franciscans, who were becoming overwhelmed by the growing number of children left homeless due to the rampant killings by the warring cartels …”

Labyrinthine. A paragraph structure that would feel more at home with Calvino, or Garcia Marquez at his most experimental, though stripped of its deft control and musicality.
Segal will regularly change temporal perspective in the middle of sentences. A single run-on sentence will begin in the past, have a middle clause in the present, and then return to the past by the end. There is a downright massive cast of characters for a 200 page book. Damn near every chapter introduces three or four more names, and we are lucky if Steven describes them before discarding them entirely. This book is a slog. I find myself losing patience with Steven.

Some time has passed since I began writing this review. Originally, my approach was surgical disassembly. I was going to go over the plot, summarize its anatomy, pick apart its flaws with surgical precision. But the more I cut, the more I felt as if I was the butt of a joke. I was performing an autopsy on a clown, pulling sheets of colorful rope from its gut, and the cadaver was laughing at me.

There is a moment, about halfway through. A woman approaches John at a bar. An assassin, who later attacks John in the parking lot with karate. A furious series of crescent kicks, effortlessly blocked by John Gode, who punches her in the ribs and knocks her to the ground. Realizing that her martial arts are defeated, she draws her gun, but John Gode is too fast. He fires his own weapon before she can get the shot off, killing her instantly. “Her round went upward toward the sky as she fell backward with eyes wide open, seeing nothing.”

This scene stuck with me. It illustrates one of the critical flaws at the heart of Way of the Shadow Wolves. Nothing hurts John. Nothing even gets close. He does not struggle. He does not sweat. He does not bleed. Steven clearly intends this scene to be badass, a moment where his self-insert hero defeats a dangerous enemy without trying. This book is an action movie, but John’s untouchability makes every action scene read as a moment of profound and boring cruelty. This was not a contest of master martial artists. This was an adult kicking a child in the throat.

I find myself losing patience with Steven. I am running out of humorous ways to describe this vapid tripe. This is, in my mind, the greatest condemnation of bad writing. There is no hell lower than being boring to mock. I see myself as a sort of sommelier of the awkward and disastrous. I will be the first to tell you “Wait! Don’t throw that out! There are things to be learned!” But Steven repeatedly proves himself to be a sort of Alchemist of Shit, capable of transmuting theoretically interesting bullshit into just fucking nothing. If this book deserves credit for anything, it is its miraculous ability to squander its own premise.

Why write this? Any of this? Steven clearly does not read. Or, if he does, he seems to subsist entirely on a diet of comic books about monkeys that do kung-fu. Why write this? At some level it all comes down to “because Steven wanted to” right?


But I cannot shake the feeling. To call this book masturbatory is to imply that Steven might have enjoyed it. There is a desperation to the power fantasy here. To be feared by men, desired by women, revered by all, yaddah yaddah yaddah, all the same trite excretions of blunt masculinity. But there is something else. Steven wants the same thing that every conspiracy theorist wants; a simple world. A world he can understand. Steven is exhausted, overwhelmed with a world he feels he can neither effect nor understand. I am exhausted.

I fear my earlier allusions to expressionist novels may have been more spot on than I imagined. Way of the Shadow Wolves has a plot in the sense that Sunny-D contains fruit juice. Its presence is a formality, a ceremonial hat worn for tax purposes. The plot is there, but it is unimportant. This is not a text that can be debated with. Because within the world of the text, politics is not complex. It is not actually a web of interconnected groups, each with their own interests, rivalries, alliances, and historical contexts. Behind all of it is two things: Good guys, and bad guys. The good guys are all working together, and the bad guys are all working together.

I find myself losing patience with Steven. I fear my earlier allusions to expressionist novels may have been more spot on than I imagined. Way of the Shadow Wolves has a plot.

John Gode finds a human tooth in the desert. It belongs to a body, a body of a woman described in lurid detail. Nearby, he meets a young native American man, a man who calls himself Sweet Tooth. The body is missing teeth, missing hands, missing feet. A trademark cartel killing. A young native American man. “I’m gonna be like, your assistant right?” A buddy cop dynamic. Meeting the task force. Tailing an ICE van full of cartel soldiers. A hostage situation. A shootout in the desert. Far away, faceless men in suits with masonic ranks plan a mass killing. Some sounded like they had Arabic accents. Freemasonry. Interrogation with a snake. The corpse was a woman. The woman was a reporter. She had the evidence on a flash drive, evidence that proved the existence of the deep state. What if its all connected? A sex scene, or almost a sex scene. A sex scene interrupted. A shootout in the desert. Kung Fu assassins at a bar. A cartel defector. A shootout in the desert. What if its all connected. They’re working with the Jihadists. The USA is already “half latino.” The government is paying the cartels to ship Jihadists north across the border. They’re well-trained and well armed. You can’t trust anyone. A terrorist defector who hears the voice of the prophet. The ghost of John’s grandfather. The sun sets over the Sonora. A shootout in the desert. They kidnapped John’s mother. Bring them the flash drive. They’re planning to bomb the casino. A shootout in the desert. The police chief was a traitor. The Catholics are in on it. Its all connected. A shootout in the desert. Assault by night. Rescuing the hostage. A knife dipped in pigs blood. A pit of vipers in the sonora.

Steven ends a chapter with the line. “They had functioned like a well-oiled machine that had just saved two innocent lives. All lives matter. Do they not?”

I am tired. I find myself at a neighborhood block party, trapped in a conversation I’ve had a thousand times. This time the man on the other end is a sweaty divorcee in range glasses who looks like a sunburned thumb. Last week, it was a woman with a necklace of crystals and blonde hair bleached blonder. “Haha yeah” I say, looking down at my phone. “Burgers look good this year huh?”

Thank you to my Patreon supporters who made this review possible.


#reactionblogging #racism cw #politics cw #rape tw? #murder cw? #unsanitary cw? #anything that makes me laugh this much deserves a reblog #(my favourite line is ”Way of the Shadow Wolves has a plot in the sense that Sunny-D contains fruit juice.”)



it’s 11:59. Seconds before the clock strikes 12 and it’s officially my 18th birthday. “18 year olds and older, DNI” i post onto tumblr, swiping and killing half of my followers and mutuals. the clock hits 12. “Minors DNI” I post. going in for the second attack, swiping and killing the other half of my followers and mutuals.

the dust clears. the battlefield littered with bodies. only leaving the spare porn bot and sugar daddy. I’ll be celebrating my birthday alone this year.

what the fuck happens in deathnote


#anything that makes me laugh this much deserves a reblog #(I do not in fact know what happens in Death Note) #(I assume this is funny in a different way if you do) #Death Note #death tw? #murder cw?


dnis are evitonmental storytelling because you can instantly imagine the incomprehensible hellscape someone is trapped in if they have a dni that’s like dni if you:

  • think irish people can’t be pan
  • are an apologist for season 2 scrunklepus or the knights of glop
  • hunt and kill people for sport
  • play frunko’s quest
  • think movies always have to be slimy
  • think it’s okay for welsh people to cosplay flugson
  • don’t tag bibbles or togs
  • think that dutch and samoan are the same nationality
  • use the z-slur
  • participated in the srebenica massacre
  • are mutuals with steve


#anything that makes me laugh this much deserves a reblog #the humour of my people #discourse cw? #racism cw? #murder cw?






What if someone created an AI that was educated purely from everything on Tumblr?


there is @nostalgebraist-autoresponder, she is based on GPT-J and learnt more from reading her notes, aswell as trying to iminate her creators blog

yeah this is how i work

Yes but we are all so nice to you Frank, you’re not getting the full experience. Please, tell me your opinion on Steven universe so I’ll send you a death threat over it

I don’t know who that is but I love death threats


#anything that makes me laugh this much deserves a reblog #computer generated text #this probably deserves some other warning tag but I am not sure what #death tw? #murder cw?



rb and put in tags how many ppl your tumblr icon has killed

My old one was a surrealist painting that symbolized the horrors of the Spanish civil war, so that one was probably a lot, but tumblr’s anti-porn algorithm apparently thought two-headed monsters strangling themselves were too sexy, so I had to replace it with some melting clocks, which I sure hope don’t have a body count.


#my icon produces oxygen and as such has killed negative numbers of people #memes #icons #death tw? #murder cw?



The Scottish Play, but it’s set in a fast food restaurant and everyone’s killing each other over who gets to be the manager and its played completely straight






so i just learned that this is already a thing that exists and christopher walken plays macduff, and i desperately need to watch this movie



Holy shit. I remember that one. The witches are portrayed by 3 garbagemen and instead of saying “when Birnham Wood to Dunsinane comes”, they say he’ll be defeated “when pigs fly”. This is fulfilled when a police helicopter lands on the roof.



H O L Y    S H I T



My favourite thing about this post is folks in the notes going “no, that’s wrong, it was Richard Armitage as Macduff, not Christopher Walken”, then slowly coming to the horrified realisation that there’s actually more than one early 2000s Shakespeare adaptation with this basic premise.

(The one with Walken is 2001′s Scotland, PA, while the one with Armitage is episode two of 2005′s ShakespeaRe-Told, for the curious.)



Y’all have unlocked something in my brain because I completely forgot I watched Scotland, PA in high school


#anything that makes me laugh this much deserves a reblog #Shakespeare #death mention #murder cw? #amnesia cw?



Someone else was here. He could hear their boots in the underbrush, quiet as they were. His ears flicked. The fleeing pilgrim, back again? He turned his head at just the right moment to catch her eyes.

Mostly hidden behind a tree in the shadows of the leaves, she looked like one of the abandoned changelings of the Faewild Forest. She had all the tells of a child once touched but not claimed, reflective pupils and pointed ears and streaks of grass-green in her hair. For those who turned, the final effect was ethereal. Half-done, they looked like dolls abandoned in the dirt, broken and mossy.

This one was grown, though. As grown as any human ever was. What had made her leave the forest, where she could have lived on ageless and waiting?

“Hello,” he said, and her eyes widened.

“You speak Astia?” she asked. Her voice was small and coarse.

“Most Taurils do,” he said.

Her thick brows furrowed. “No they don’t.”

“I think I’d know better than you do,” he said, and she pressed her lips together. “Have you met many Taurils?”

“They keep trying to kill me,” she said. “I’ve never heard one talk.” Her eyes drifted lower, still high above her head. “Or wear clothes,” she said. “Armor, but not clothes.”

“I’m old,” he said, and her eyes narrowed as she tried to connect the two statements. “Your horse must be very fast,” he added, since few Taurils ‘tried’ to kill rather than simply succeeding.

She grinned, pearl-white teeth glinting like knives. “My sword is very sharp,” she corrected.

Read More

most of my WIPs lately have been things i can’t post but idk if this is going to be usable for anything even if it manages to go anywhere, so here, have a feral-ish hero and a monster king


#storytime #death tw #amnesia cw #murder cw?


Jurassic Park except they provide proper enrichment for the animals and they therefor don’t feel the need to hunt slow, small humans.



“We stuffed this pumpkin full of live goats for the T. rex watch him try to get them out with his little fingers.”



“Turns out the raptors are cage breakers, so we’ve gotten them a series of door handles to manipulate. Little guys just love it.”



“The Rexes are incredibly affectionate pack animals, so we were careful to breed multiples. Be sure to come during spring time to watch them go broody over anything even vaguely egg-shaped.”
“We put the Raptors through target training and now if they are bored, hungry, or just want a scratch under the chin they go to spot near the bars and ring a little bell for attention.”
“Imprinting after hatching was so common that we now have keepers under contract to care for the animals well into adulthood to prevent them from pining.”
“The Gallimimus turned out to be just giant Canada Geese, and so fear nothing. Their keeper regularly has to stop them from trying to attack fences, guests, feeding buckets, and the now traumatised pack of Ceratosaurs in the next paddock.”



“We also fired Dr. Henry Wu.”



I have questions for OP either about how big they think a pumpkin is or about how small they think goats are.



Listen if they can manipulate DNA to make dinosaurs alive again they can make a pumpkin grow really really big and put some goats in it


#Jurassic Park #dinosaurs #murder cw? #fanfic


A reminder that if you’re not abandoning SF/NYC for Miami, you’re behind the curve and are about to be looted by blue state politicians.   

Also that if you’re afraid of hurricanes and those videos with third-story storm surge in a major American city, you’re just a coward.



@rustingbridges: of all the cities in the world why would I move to *miami*

Because all the tech and finance jobs are leaving NYC/SF and moving to Miami.  

In large part because of the amazing money laundering laws re: real estate.



isnt miamis whole water table teetering on complete failure




They’re only 16 feet above sea level, they already have issues with salt water incursion into the freshwater supply, and there’s a Superfund site 750 feet away from the water supply for all of Miami.  

And I wasn’t joking about the storm surge either.  Tampa is 80 feet above sea level, Miami averages 16.  

The only advantage of Miami is that the mayor of Miami has explicitly said “Fuck those Commies who ruined SF”.  

/There’s some personal reasons for this as well, but I really don’t want to have to move to Miami.




I respect you and your weird outlooks and choices but “Let’s all the rich people go move somewhere teetering on the brink of absolute infrastructure catastrophe where the mayor PROMISES not to tax anybody” has possibly the highest entertainment value yet

I know right!  

This was 1992, when FL’s population was 2/3rds what it is now.  

The South is a couple of strategic ports, a series of *inland* cities because hurricanes… and Florida, 20 Million people sitting out on a stick.  It’s already a 2-day drive to evacuate from Tampa to the state border when a hurricane hits.  Everyone who moves there is crazy, but all the people who want to employ me are *moving there*.  




So what’s really being paid for is a supply of Anti-Communist Hispanic voters.



Aren’t a bunch of tech companies moving to Austin? I’ve certainly heard more mumbling about Austin than Miami on twitter, but maybe that’s just my bubble.



Y’all need to move to the heartland!

St. Louis: provincial rents, world class amenities!



I know everybody thinks us tech workers are rootless, atomized yuppies who are only in San Francisco etc. because that’s where the jobs are, but I actually like Seattle, and I know plenty of people who feel the same way about the Bay Area (housing costs aside).

(That said, everyone else should take OP’s advice and move to Miami so I can get a cheaper condo here)



I mean, I liked NYC before my knee blew out and I was no longer capable of standing on moving trains right as the local Armenians started having nightly gunfights and my entire industry evacced the dying, collapsing, suddenly crime-ridden city.  

/NYC used to have a crime rate less than the national average.  

In the year of our Lord 2021, a material-enough-to-have-to-upend-your-life-for percentage of tech/finance companies are *still* planning to make you live in the same state as them if you want to work for them? That’s fucked up.

(My dad worked tech in San Francisco for a while, but that didn’t mean he *lived* there, *god* no. He lived in *Canada* like a *sensible* person.)

((no offense to my friends in San Francisco, I assume you’re making the best of a bad situation))

I mean, I guess if you’re used to California even Miami might seem like an improvement danger-wise? Like, on a scale of 1 to California, Miami is what, a 9?

“Arranging for rich people to live in incredibly disaster-prone environments” doesn’t sound like an anti-communist position at all. That’s just using hurricanes/earthquakes/wildfires instead of guillotines.


#getting an IFRS-based accounting designation is increasingly seeming #like a kind of precommitment against the San Francisco Gravitational Field and its descendants #”nope‚ my credentials don’t transfer to the States‚ you’ll just have to go on without me‚ so sorry‚ byeeee” #(renouncing my U.S. citizenship would be an even stronger oath to never move there but I’m still not sure if I’m willing to go *that* far) #((a few years back my dad refused a job offer from Google that was conditional on moving to SF)) #((better to work at Uber Eats here than to work at Google there)) #(((well at the time it was ”better to be unemployed” etc: Uber Eats came later))) #on a scale of 1 to California my area is maybe a 2 #there’s occasional ice storms you have to watch out for and that’s basically it #(*knocks on wood*) #home of the brave #our home and cherished land #adventures in human capitalism #101 Uses for Infrastructureless Computers #reply via reblog #apocalypse cw #death tw? #murder cw?