You will live to see man-made retardation beyond your comprehension.

Tag: prior-to-migration

The Lottery

It’s Tessie,” Mr. Summers said, and his voice was hushed. “Show us her paper, Bill. “

Bill Hutchinson went over to his wife and forced the slip of paper out of her hand. It had a black spot on it, the black spot Mr. Summers had made the night before with the heavy pencil in the coal company office. Bill Hutchinson held it up, and there was a stir in the crowd.

“All right, folks. ” Mr. Summers said. “Let’s finish quickly. “

Although the villagers had forgotten the ritual and lost the original black box, they still remembered to use stones. The pile of stones the boys had made earlier was ready; there were stones on the ground with the blowing scraps of paper that had come out of the box Delacroix selected a stone so large she had to pick it up with both hands and turned to Mrs. Dunbar. “Come on,” she said. “Hurry up. “

Mrs. Dunbar had small stones in both hands, and she said, gasping for breath. “I can’t run at all. You’ll have to go ahead and I’ll catch up with you. “

The children had stones already. And someone gave little Davy Hutchinson a few pebbles.

Tessie Hutchinson was in the center of a cleared space by now, and she held her hands out desperately as the villagers moved in on her. “It isn’t fair,” she said. A stone hit her on the side of the head. Old Man Warner was saying, “Come on, come on, everyone. ” Steve Adams was in the front of the crowd of villagers, with Mrs. Graves beside him.

“It isn’t fair, it isn’t right,” Mrs. Hutchinson screamed, and then they were upon her.

— Shirley Jackson, The Lottery

(I tell you, but you don’t listen.)

Orange was Right

2:25 PM <JFT_BOT> June 07, 2019
2:25 PM <JFT_BOT> Someone who believes in me
2:25 PM <JFT_BOT> Page 165
2:25 PM <JFT_BOT> Just for today, I will have faith in someone in NA who believes in me and wants to help me in my recovery.
2:25 PM <JFT_BOT> Basic Text, p. 100
2:25 PM <JFT_BOT> Not all of us arrive in NA and automatically stay clean. But if we keep coming back, we find in Narcotics Anonymous the support we need for our recovery. Staying clean is easier when we have someone who believes in us even when we don’t believe in ourselves.Even the most frequent relapser in NA usually has one staunch supporter who is always there,
2:25 PM <JFT_BOT>  no matter what. It is imperative that we find that one person or group of people who believes in us. When we ask them if we will ever get clean, they will always replay, Yes, you can and you will. Just keep coming back!We all need someone who believes in us, especially when we can’t believe in ourselves. When we relapse, we undermine our already s
2:25 PM <JFT_BOT> hattered self-confidence, sometimes so badly that we begin to feel utterly hopeless. At such times, we need the support of our loyal NA friends. They tell us that this can be our last relapse. They know from experience that if we keep coming to meetings,we will eventually get clean and stay clean.It’s hard for many of us to believe in ourselves. Bu
2:25 PM <JFT_BOT> t when someone loves us unconditionally, offering support no matter how many times we’ve relapsed, recovery in NA becomes a little more real for us.
2:25 PM <JFT_BOT> Just for Today: I will find someone who believes in me. I will believe in them.

2:27 PM <robert> And what if none of them believe in you or want to help you
2:28 PM <robert> What if they’re like don’t sponsor him
2:28 PM <robert> Stay away he’s crazy
2:28 PM <CleanBill> what if frogs could fly??
2:28 PM <CleanBill> if frogs could fly they be screwing all the birds
2:29 PM <robert> Must be nice being dumber than a cocker spaniel
2:29 PM <robert>

2:30 PM <Susie> hmm are you calling us retards ?
2:30 PM <robert> Just cleanbill

Rat City

I’ve always loved rat-related anecdotes.

I love how rats try to free one another from a trap.

I’ve heard something about the rat who would pull a lever to administer drugs over and over and over until it died.

And I went, “well, fuck, that’s kind of bleak.”

I didn’t know the other part of the story about Rat City, where they took the same rats and gave them a space that was 200 times larger than their previous cage.

They were given toys to play with and plenty of treats and food and other rats to socialize and places to nest and raise their young.

Only 5% or so of the rats continued to pull the lever after that.

Given the choice between regular water and drug laced water, most chose the regular water after that.

I was like “how have I never heard this?”

One of my classmates snorted and said “too expensive, no one wants to hear about this or come up with the money for it. It got buried and that’s all anyone ever heard about Rat City.”

I got to thinking the chatroom’s kind of like Rat City: Take a bunch of neurotic and isolated rats sitting at home and yanking on their dope levers and give them others to socialize with.. and a hunt game and some macros to play with, and bam. Some of them stopped yanking on the lever.

Some of them remain behind and continue to try to free the other rats from their traps.

It’s a far cry from addressing other psychosocial needs or getting people out of survival mode though.

I wish we had a version of Rat City that wasn’t wedded with NA kool-aid and abusive fucked up steppers.

Because I don’t think Rat City would have been so successful if you had introduced the aforementioned rat into a cage full of other rats that were bullies.

Update 9/20/2022: I’m going to leave that bullshit as-is but here, two anons dish on the real ”rat city” / “rat utopia” story:


12:22 AM <Robin_Y> when you are young they want to peek in your pussy
12:31 AM <misterpickles> When you’re 21, you’re no fun

Cruel and Unusual Punishment

2:01 PM <Robin_Y> * mould ([email protected]) has joined #nachatroom

2:01 PM <Robin_Y> <mould> what about sex magic?

2:01 PM <Robin_Y> <mould> how do i do it?

2:23 PM <Robin_Y> im not sure hes here for the right things

5:46 PM <misterpickles> I’d prefer to punish him by having him date one of the women here instead of banning him


I had a dream that Tommy (one of our moderators who passed away unexpectedly on Friday) had left a scrapbook behind.

I went to retrieve it.

It was a big scrapbook with a rough red cover and big thick cream colored pages.

I flipped through the pages but I wasn’t sure what I was looking at.

Tommy was in the room with me. He explained to me that it was “character development.”


I dreamt that I was being pursued down a staircase that went down endlessly in a spiral.

There was no escaping whatever was chasing me.

The staircase was dark.

There was no end in sight.

I ran.

And I ran.

And I ran.

And whatever I was running from was only a few inches away from nipping at my heels.

I gave up. 

I got down on my knees and said the “serenity prayer.”

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change.

The courage to change the things I can.

And the wisdom to know the difference.

I heard a voice telling me “Welcome home” just before I woke up safe in bed.