I don't hate Christian Weston Chandler, the gross fat and balding pseudo-tranny, at all... but I kind of need him to fail and die an unhappy, early and uncomfortable death anyway, seeing as how it would be too painful for me to find out now - as I struggle to coordinate a career, kids, spouse, friends - that a man my age could really be happy just eating and playing video games all day.
This is stuff I used to enjoy but don't really have time for anymore, and have down prioritized hard since "growing up" and every now and then I miss it and think, you know, how great would it be if I could just play with legos all day and eat without dying at age 38, and nobody bothered me and I didn't have to work? But I don't really believe that I WANT any of that, I tell myself, because as most people I think I sort of hope that all this hard work I put into my life will somehow pay off, or make me "more" "happy" than just pure hedonism could, or at least I want to sort of believe that my own happiness is somehow connected to effort or my job or something stupid, when in reality the bottom line is that when I die nothing I do or can do or will have done will mean more, in the grand scheme of things, than anything that happened in the life of Christian Chandler. Which is horrifying, really. So I am glad he is miserable, because I too am miserable and I think we all are fundamentally miserable because of this sort of, uh, gap between all the things we do and our fundamental knowledge that none of them matter all that much... you know, between all the effort we put into things (into being good people living good lives that are filled with productivity and love and human compassion), and the lengths we go to to forget that we know that some day it will all die with us anyway.
So it would be really good, for my own mental health and outlook, if he died miserably and very vocally while broadcasting his decline on the internet for all the world to see. You know, in that sense he is sort of like an artist with all the polarities reversed. I don't want people to do something TOO well, and survive for too long and live a happy life, because that would be unbearable and mean that my own long life of mediocre, cookie cutter contentment and happiness was not justified....Like. If you are super good at something, I kinda need to see you die at age 28, for me to not feel horrible that I am not good at anything except staying alive... and in the same spirit, I don't want people to do TOO badly and survive in utter, happy hedonism, because that too would mean that my own life was wrong, or misguided. If you are in your 30s and hand-draw a comic about a fictional world with sonic characters you believe are real, you must die. It is anthropological fact.
So in that sense, the life of Chris - and the watching of Chris - makes me aware that I am a petty and scared man, which makes me even more hostile to him, which in turn makes me feel more petty. It is a vicious circle and the only way out of it, is his death. They used to drag the beautiful Mayan virgins with the longest, darkest hair, to the top of the pyramids to sacrifice them to their gods, because they thought it was necessary. On kiwifarms, we need the fat, striped-shirt wearing autist with long greasy hair and bald spot to drag himself up his virtual pyramid and die up there, miserably, so that we may continue to believe that we live the right lives. We are the high priests, and the drought is coming. Everything is going to dry up and die out, and we are desperate. I don't hate Christian Chandler, who regularly shits himself because his diet is just that poor, but none the less I feel a strong, primal craving for him to die so that I may live.
Also it is funny that he thought he was growing a vagina.
Dude's nuts.
on Chris, he was an unfunny, idiotic faggot and he almost caused Chris as much damage as Wise did, he still may be lurking at BronyCon, and I hope he tries something so Chris can report him to security and they can kick his ass out.
