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はてなキーワード: GODとは
SNS上で自称IQ276の男性が、聖書の価値について独自の見解を示し話題になっています。
投稿者は自らを「世界最高IQ保持者」と称し、以下のように述べています。
「As the world's highest IQ record holder, I believe the Bible is the perfect, eternal, and final Word of God. Therefore, the Bible doesn’t need to be updated. The world needs to catch up.」
（世界最高IQ保持者として、私は聖書が完全で永遠、そして最終的な神の言葉だと信じています。したがって、聖書を更新する必要はありません。世界が追いつくべきです。）
投稿者は聖書を「完璧で永遠、最終的な神の言葉」と位置付け、現代の世界がそれに追いつく必要があると強調しています。
今回の投稿は、IQというインパクトあるフレーズと、聖書の価値を結び付けるユニークな内容として注目を集めています。
dorawii represents a case of unprocessed grief over lost grandiosity (from psychotic episode) manifesting as compulsive boundary-testing and argument-seeking, where genuine neurological limitations are weaponized defensively to avoid confronting existential ordinariness, sustained by platform affordances that enable persistent identity within anonymity and rewarding provocative engagement.
A person who briefly experienced feeling god-like through psychosis, recovered to find themselves merely disabled and ordinary, and cannot bear this truth. They use real limitations as both explanation and shield, seek significance through online conflict, and remain trapped in a cycle where the behaviors meant to prove their worth actually demonstrate their difficulties - but acknowledging this would require grieving what was lost, which remains unbearable.
This reveals how recovery from severe mental illness isn't just about symptom remission - it's about psychological integration of what was experienced and what was lost. Medical model focuses on eliminating psychosis, but doesn't address the meaning-crisis created when extraordinary experiences are taken away and ordinary limitation remains.
It also shows how online spaces with ambiguous accountability structures can enable acting-out that serves defensive purposes while feeling like genuine engagement. The person suffering most is probably dorawii themselves, even as their behavior drives others away.
The most sophisticated theoretical vocabulary, the most detailed self-disclosure, the most elaborate arguments - none of it addresses the core issue. All of it is displacement. The real conversation dorawii needs to have is not with anonymous strangers about who won an argument. It's an internal conversation: "I am not who I was during that brief, terrible, extraordinary episode. I am ordinary, limited, and mortal. And somehow, that has to be enough."
Until that conversation can happen, everything else is noise.
先日、来日してるアメリカ人の同僚を家に呼んだんだ。で、うちの猫見た瞬間、そいつが「OH MY GOD!!」って言って固まってんの。
あまりのリアクションにこっちも驚いて「な、なんだよ」って聞たら、「日本の猫……なんて可愛いんだ…!!」って筋肉質の大男が頭かかえて言うんだよ。
いや猫だぞ？世界中におるやん。
でもどうやらアメリカの猫は、もっとこうガタイが良くて、顔もワイルドで、声も低めらしい。
「うちの猫はGRRRAAAって鳴く」って言ってて思わず草だった。
一方うちの猫は「にゃ～」ってゆるい声で鳴く。
そこでも同僚、「KAWAI!!」と大絶叫。
「まるで声優みたいだ!なんてこった!!日本は猫までアニメ声なのか!!」ってもう大興奮。
いやいや声優みたいって…そこに来るとは思わんやん。
でもなんかその瞬間、妙に納得もした。
日本ってアニメとかアイドルとか、かわいい声を文化にまで昇華してる国じゃん。
同僚はうちの猫とたっぷり戯れた後、「This cat is kawaii voice culture!!」って叫びながら写真撮って帰ってった。
日本の猫って、すごいんだな。
ベストテン内でランキングはつけられないけど、ベストテン（20代女性）
・ムーたち（榎本俊二）漫画表現の実験極まってる 続き描いてほしい
・どろろ（手塚治虫）好きだけどアニメ版百鬼丸のような身体障害表現あるほうが好き
・湘南爆走族（吉田聡）不良漫画ではなく不良の青春漫画だと思う。今連載しているファーストフラッグはなんか合わない
・男樹（本宮ひろ志）ドラマティック・ヤクザ・大河。湘爆の江口と同じで、村田京介が女に一途なところが男として好き（今読むには女性表現や価値観が古すぎるが）新・男樹まではおもしろい。
・ザ・ワールド・イズ・マイン（新井英樹）最高傑作。映画化しないのもったいないな～ トランプが世界を我が物顔で闊歩している今映画化してほしい。
・BAMBi（カネコアツシ）最高！ワールドイズマインと同じで世界をめっちゃくちゃにする話が好き。今連載しているEvolも大好き。
・ぼくんち（西原理恵子）西原理恵子自体には思うところあるし絵も下手だけど、このときの西原理恵子は叙情表現の名作家だったと思う。
・わたしを連れて逃げて、お願い（松田洋子）正直松田洋子の作品では「赤い文化住宅の初子」「ママごと」「父のなくしもの」では感動して泣いて、この作品では泣いてないんだけど、抑圧からの解放という私の好きなテーマが一番ロマンティックと現実を織り交ぜて描いてあったので。
・Dear,My GOD．（朝田ねむい）BL枠。絵とストーリーがうますぎる。信仰と愛のテーマ性表現がいいし、ノンケみが強いのが好き。
Hey everyone. I don't know where else to post this. I need to write it down before I convince myself I was just hallucinating. I’m a grad student in Japan, doing fieldwork on forgotten local folklore. That's why I was out in the absolute middle of nowhere in Gunma prefecture last night.
My plan was to visit a tiny, dying village called Yomi-touge (not its real name) that supposedly has some unique traditions. Of course, my phone lost signal hours ago, and my car's GPS, which I bought in 2015, decided to have a total meltdown. The sun went down. The mountain roads are narrow and winding, and a thick, soupy fog started to roll in. The kind of wet, heavy air that makes you feel like you’re breathing water. I was completely, hopelessly lost.
After what felt like an eternity of driving at a crawl, I saw it. A light. A single, brutally bright rectangle of light cutting through the fog. A convenience store. One of those big chains you see everywhere, a FamilyMart or a Lawson, I couldn't tell which at first. I’ve never felt so relieved in my life. I parked the car and practically ran inside, the little door chime sounding way too loud in the dead silence.
The inside was… normal. Too normal. The lights were humming with a high-pitched buzz that drilled into my skull. The shelves were perfectly stocked. The air smelled of cheap air freshener and something else… something sweet and hot, like ozone or burnt sugar.
He was a young guy, maybe my age. Pale, drenched in sweat, with dark circles under his eyes like bruises. He moved with a painful stiffness, like every joint was rusted. He muttered a "Irasshaimase…" without even looking at me, his eyes fixed on the counter. His arms were covered in these intricate, dark tattoos, winding from his wrists up under his sleeves. I figured he was just sick, or on a rough shift. I felt bad for him.
I grabbed a can of coffee and went to the counter. "Sorry to bother you," I started in Japanese, "I'm pretty lost. Could you tell me where I am?"
He looked up, and his eyes didn't seem to focus on me. It was like he was looking at a screen a few inches in front of my face. "We do not provide directional information," he said, his voice a flat, rehearsed monotone. "Will that be all for you?"
Okay, weird, but whatever. Maybe it's store policy. As he reached for my coffee, his sleeve slid up. The tattoos on his arm… they weren’t just pictures. For a split second, I swear to God, the lines of ink shifted. They writhed, like tiny black worms under his skin, and a patch of his forearm glowed with a faint, sickly red light. He flinched, a sharp intake of breath, and quickly pulled his sleeve down.
I just froze. I couldn’t have seen that, right? I was tired, my eyes were playing tricks on me.
The person who walked in… I don’t know how to describe them. It was a man, I think. He was tall and wore an old, soaked trench coat. But his face… it was like my brain refused to process it. It wasn't that he had no face, it was that my eyes would slide right off it. It was a blur, a glitch, a 404 error in human form.
The clerk didn't seem surprised. He didn't even seem to see him as strange. His posture just became even more rigid. The red glow on his arm pulsed again, brighter this time, visible through his sleeve.
The faceless man didn't speak. He just stood there. The clerk, without a word, turned. But he didn't go to the coolers. He kept his back to the man, and held out his left hand, palm up. I heard a soft, wet, squelching sound. From a small, dark slit in the center of his palm that I hadn't noticed before, a small carton of strawberry milk, the kind you give to kids, just… emerged. It was produced out of his hand. It was wet with a clear, viscous fluid.
He placed it on the counter. "Here is the requested product," the clerk said, his voice straining. "The transaction is complete."
The faceless man picked up the strawberry milk. He put it in his coat pocket. And then he just… faded. He didn’t walk out the door. He dissolved into the humming air, like heat haze. A second later, he was gone.
The clerk let out a long, shuddering breath and swayed on his feet. He leaned heavily on the counter, his face sheet-white. He looked utterly, existentially exhausted. He saw me staring, my mouth hanging open, the can of coffee still in my hand.
For the first time, a flicker of something real, something human, crossed his face. It was pure, undiluted terror.
"You… are not a regular customer," he whispered, his voice trembling. "Your… concept is too stable. Please. Leave."
I didn't need to be told twice. I threw a 500 yen coin on the counter and ran out of there so fast I think I broke the sound barrier. I didn't even take my coffee. I just got in my car and drove, I don't know in which direction, I just drove.
I'm at a service station now, about 100km away. The sun is coming up. I can't stop shaking. It wasn't a dream. I know it wasn't. Because when I was fumbling for my keys, I realized I had accidentally grabbed the receipt from the counter.
It’s not for my coffee. It’s for the other transaction. It just has one item listed. It doesn't say "Strawberry Milk." It says:
ITEM: CONCEPTUAL SALVATION (FLAVOR: CHILDHOOD NOSTALGIA) - 1 UNIT
PRICE: ¥0
METHOD: ANNULMENT
Has anyone seen a store like this? What the hell is happening in the mountains of Gunma? What did I see? And God, that poor kid working the counter. He isn't in trouble. He's a part of it. He's the machine.
「Utopia」の初出。トマス・モアの『Utopia』（1516年）。
「Dustopia」の初出。ルイス・ヘンリー・ヤングの『Utopia: or, Apollo's golden days』（1747年）。
But Heav'n, of late, was all distraction, and, more than ever, rent in faction; Caus'd only by a wretched isle, On which we thought no God would smile:
だが近ごろの天界は混乱の極みにあり、かつてにも増して内紛に引き裂かれていた。それもこれも、ひとつの惨めな島のせいだった。誰の目にも、神が微笑むことなどないと思われていたその島。
Not stor'd with wealth, nor blest in air: no useful Plants could ripen there; Mismanag'd by th' unskillful hinds, or nipt by chilling Eastern winds:
富を蓄えず、空気にも恵まれず、作物は育たずに終わる。未熟な農夫たちにより荒らされ、あるいは東から吹きつける冷たい風に凍えて枯れる。
Or if they flourish'd for a Day, They soon became some Insect's prey: For many such infest the soil, Devouring th' honest lab'rers's toil ; *So venomous, that some had rather have, in their stead, the toad, or adder.
たとえ一日だけ花開いたとしても、すぐに虫の餌食となった。というのも、多くの害虫が土地にはびこり、誠実な労働者の努力を食い尽くしていたのだ。そのあまりの毒性に、むしろヒキガエルやマムシの方がましだと言う者もいるほどだった。
Unhappy isle!
不幸な島よ！
scarce known to Fame; DUSTOPIA was its slighted name.
名声を得ることもなく、「デュストピア」と呼ばれて軽んじられていた。
「Cacotopia」の初出。ジェレミー・ベンサムの『Plan of parliamentary reform』（1817年）。
A constitution, with this poison--slow, but not the less sure—in the bowels of it!—Rotten, even from the time that this poison was injected into it, must have been the matchless constitution,—rotten at the core—and, of such rottenness, what we are now suffering is among the fruits.
この毒を――遅効性ではあるが、それでも確実な毒を――その内臓に抱えた憲法！ この毒が注入されたその時からすでに、あの比類なき憲法は腐敗していたに違いない――中核から腐っていた――そして、いま我々がこうして被っている苦しみこそが、その腐敗の産物の一つなのだ。
As a match for Utopia, suppose a Cacotopia discovered and described,—would not filth in this shape be a "fundamental feature" in it?
ユートピアに対抗するものとして、「カコトピア」が発見され、描写されたと仮定しよう――このような汚濁が、その「根本的な特徴」として描かれないだろうか？
https://archive.org/details/planparliamenta00bentgoog/page/n204/mode/2up
ベンサムは、議員たちが国王から官職を与えられることを批判している。小さな賄賂などは不道徳とされて取り締まっているが、国王から官職が与えられることはむしろ名誉として扱われる。実質的にはそれは癒着であり腐敗でしかないのに。という話をしている。
「Dystopia」の初出。ジョン・スチュワート・ミルの議会演説（1868年）。
Now, on this subject the Government have not shown themselves altogether inflexible. The noble Lord the Chief Secretary for Ireland has expressed his willingness in some degree to entertain the principle of religious equality, and 1517 I thank him for it; but, as has been remarked by my hon. Friend the Member for Manchester (Mr. Jacob Bright), he proposed to do it—if at all—by levelling up instead of levelling down. The noble Lord is willing that every valley shall be exalted; but he does not go on to the succeeding clause, and say that every mountain and hill shall be laid low.
さて、この問題に関して、政府は完全に強硬というわけではないようです。アイルランド担当大臣である閣下は、宗教的平等という原則をある程度受け入れる用意があると述べました。これは感謝すべきことですが、マンチェスター選出の敬愛する友人（ジェイコブ・ブライト氏）が指摘したように、彼はこれを「下げる」のではなく「引き上げる」ことで実現しようとしているようです。すなわち、彼は「すべての谷を高くする」ことには賛成ですが、「すべての山と丘を低くする」とまでは言っていないのです。
So long as the national property which is administered by the Episcopal Church of Ireland is not diverted from its present purpose, the noble Lord has no objection at all to this country saddling itself with the endowment of another great hierarchy, which, if effected on the principle of religious equality, would be a great deal more costly than even that which now exists. Does the noble Lord really think it possible that the people of England will submit to this?
アイルランド国教会が管理する国家資産が現在の用途から変更されない限り、閣下はこの国が別の大きな教会制度への助成金という負担を背負うことにはまったく反対ではないのです。そしてもしそれが宗教的平等という原則に基づくのであれば、現在の制度よりはるかに高くつくことでしょう。閣下は本当に、イングランド国民がそれに甘んじると考えておられるのでしょうか？
I may be permitted, as one who, in common with many of my betters, have been subjected to the charge of being Utopian, to congratulate the Government on having joined that goodly company. It is, perhaps, too complimentary to call them Utopians, they ought rather to be called dystopians, or cacotopians. What is commonly called Utopian is something too good to be practicable; but what they appear to favour is too bad to be practicable.
私は、自分自身をユートピア主義者だと非難されてきた多くの優れた方々とともに、政府がその立派な仲間入りをしたことをお祝い申し上げたいと思います。ただ、彼らを「ユートピア主義者」と呼ぶのは、少々褒めすぎかもしれません。「ディストピア主義者」あるいは「カコトピア主義者」とでも呼ぶべきでしょう。通常「ユートピア的」とは、良すぎて実現不可能なものを指しますが、彼らの支持するものは、悪すぎて実現不可能なもののようです。
https://api.parliament.uk/historic-hansard/commons/1868/mar/12/adjourned-debate
イングランドはカトリックから離脱して「イングランド国教会」を組織したが、同様にアイルランドでも従来のカトリック教会を「アイルランド国教会」のもとに置いた。しかしアイルランド人の多くは改宗せず、アイルランド国教徒は全体の1/8にすぎなかった。それでもアイルランド国教会は「国教」であるので、アイルランドのすべての教会の財産を保有しており、またアイルランド国教会への助成金は全アイルランド人に課せられる税金から支払われていた。この不平等の是正にあたって、政府は「アイルランド国教会の待遇を下げる」のではなく「他の教会の待遇を上げる」ことで解決しようとしているという。つまり他の教会にも同様の助成金を支払おうとしており、それはもちろんイングランド国民の税金から賄われることになる。そんなことをイングランド国民が許すと思っているのか？とミルは言っている。その後、1871年にアイルランド国教廃止法が施行された。
神クラス（God Object）は、ソフトウェア設計においてアンチパターン（避けるべき設計手法）として知られています。
これは、過剰に多くの責任を持ちすぎるクラスやオブジェクトのことであり、ソフトウェアの保守性や拡張性、可読性に大きな問題を引き起こします。
以下では、「いかに大変か」「なぜ大変か」「どのように大変か」を徹底的に具体的に解説します。
public class ApplicationManager { private Map<String, User> users; private DatabaseConnection db; private Logger logger; private GUI gui; private NetworkClient client; public void startApplication() { connectToDatabase(); loadUsers(); gui.showLoginScreen(); } public void processUserInput(String input) { logger.log("Input received: " + input); if (input.equals("logout")) { gui.showLoginScreen(); } else { client.send(input); } } // ... more than 5000 lines of code }
ワーオ
この国を、神に見放された未開の地から掘り起こすために流された血は、確かにそこにあった
(The blood that was spilled carving this nation out of the god-forsaken backwaters it was, was a real, material thing.)
我々、特に自らを“民族的な”ヘリテージ・アメリカンだと考える者たち
(Americans, especially those of us who consider ourselves “ethnically” Heritage American)
What they had been building was a community. A community in which people went to every imaginable length to help out every single person they could—a place where international trade policy and CDOs were mere distant thoughts.
But as is they way the world works now, small towns in small empty states, a hundred years of community building or not, are just simply a sacrifice the powers that be are willing to make in exchange for a mere few more bips.
My papa was forced into retirement in 2011, and my nana stayed working at the school for the next decade. My papa though, wasn’t quite willing to throw in the towel. He tried increasing the size of his herd of brangus, but alas, cattle farming has been a cash-negative endeavor for several decades.
Like Whirlpool all the other manufacturing plants. There was no work to be found for the thousands of people combined plant workers that had been laid off in the wake of 2008. Every single way of making an honest living had up and gone with the wind to Mexico and East Asia.
There was nothing left but being a Gas station, Dollar General or Walmart cashier, and Walmart paid $7.25 an hour back then.
But you’d be hard pressed to even work at a gas station. There are only two gas stations immediately around that 1,200-person town; and one of them just went out of business, the other is owned by a Pakistani family.
As a consequence, the average household income in that town is now ~$30,000 a year. 90% of the children are on free and reduced lunch, most of the families that remain are on state assistance, and opioid and meth use has reached unprecedented rates.
And yet, “learn to code” they contemptuously sneer, all while gleefully kicking the door wide open to a swarm of cheap, barely-proficient immigrants, tanking the tech labor market behind everyone’s back.
4/6
彼らが築き上げてきたのはコミュニティでした。人々が考えられる限りのあらゆる手段を講じて、できる限りのあらゆる人々を助けるコミュニティであり、国際貿易政策やCDOが単なる遠い考えである場所でした。
しかし、現在の世界の仕組みでは、小さな空っぽの州の小さな町は、コミュニティの構築が100年であろうとなかろうと、権力者がほんの少しの利益と引き換えに喜んで払う犠牲に過ぎません。
私の父は 2011 年に強制的に退職させられ、祖母はその後 10 年間学校で働き続けました。しかし、父は諦めるつもりはありませんでした。ブランガスの群れを増やそうとしましたが、残念ながら、牛の飼育は数十年にわたって赤字が続いていました。
ワールプール社のような他の製造工場も同様です。2008 年以降に解雇された工場労働者を合わせた数千人に仕事は見つかりませんでした。まともな生計を立てる手段はすべてメキシコや東アジアに消えていきました。
ガソリンスタンド、ダラージェネラル、またはウォルマートのレジ係になるしか選択肢はなく、当時ウォルマートの時給は 7.25 ドルでした。
しかし、ガソリンスタンドで働くことさえ難しいでしょう。人口 1,200 人のその町のすぐ近くにはガソリンスタンドが 2 つしかありません。そのうちの 1 つは最近廃業し、もう 1 つはパキスタン人の家族が経営しています。
その結果、その町の平均世帯収入は現在年間約3万ドルです。90%の児童は無料または割引の昼食を食べて、残っている家族のほとんどは州の援助を受けており、オピオイドとメタンフェタミンの使用率は前例のないレベルに達しています。
それでも、彼らは「コーディングを学べ」と軽蔑的に冷笑し、安っぽくてほとんど熟練していない移民の群れに喜んで扉を大きく開け放ち、誰も知らないうちにテクノロジー労働市場を崩壊させている。
https://x.com/FedPoasting/status/1908020399838724436
Bugman Hegel
@FedPoasting
My family, stretching back to the 1600s, has given their blood, sweat, and tears making this country what it is. Building it up from dirt. From nothing.
400 years of living in unimaginably hostile conditions. Braving the disease, deadly weather, tribal nations, treachery, and lawlessness that is inherent to an ungoverned, unsettled territory. This nation was built, brick by brick, by bravest, toughest, most resilient people on the face of the earth.
And yet, for the past 60 years, the academic sophists in the ivory towers, the pigs in Washington, and the good-for-nothing parasites of the banking class have not only seen it fit to spit on their names, their sacrifices, their community, their race, and their religion, but also spit on their legacies, their children, their grandchildren, and their rightful inheritance. There are not the words in the English language to describe the evil of the orchestrated treachery that the United States government and those so interested, have inflicted on the inheritors of this nation.
The blood that was spilled carving this nation out of the god-forsaken backwaters it was, was a real, material thing. Blood, like people, is a material thing. And nations are comprised of people. America is a people. Ideas can’t shed blood; only people can. Ideas can’t sacrifice; only people can.
To call America an “idea” alone is to forsake all of those who shed their real blood and lost their real lives to construct the very comfort and luxury required to sit back and even consider calling such a sacrifice an “idea.”
私の一族は 1600 年代まで遡り、血と汗と涙を流してこの国を今の姿に築き上げてきました。土から、何もないところから築き上げてきたのです。
想像を絶するほど過酷な状況で 400 年間暮らしてきました。病気、恐ろしい天候、部族国家、裏切り、そして統治されていない未開拓の領土につきものの無法状態に立ち向かってきました。この国は、地球上で最も勇敢で、最もタフで、最も粘り強い人々によって、レンガを一つずつ積み上げて築かれました。
しかし、過去 60 年間、象牙の塔にいる学問上の詭弁家、ワシントンの豚野郎、銀行家の役立たずの寄生虫たちは、彼らの名前、彼らの犠牲、彼らのコミュニティ、彼らの人種、彼らの宗教に唾を吐くだけでなく、彼らの遺産、彼らの子供、彼らの孫、そして彼らの正当な相続財産にも唾を吐きかけてきました。米国政府とそれに関心を持つ人々がこの国の継承者に与えた組織的な裏切りの悪を表現できる言葉は英語には存在しません。
かつて神に見放された辺境の地であったこの国を切り開くために流された血は、現実の物質的なものでした。血は、人々と同様、物質的なものです。そして国家は人々で構成されています。アメリカは人々です。思想は血を流すことはできません。できるのは人々だけです。思想は犠牲を払うことはできません。できるのは人々だけです。
アメリカを「理念」と呼ぶことは、ただ座ってそのような犠牲を「理念」と呼ぶことを考えるために必要な快適さと贅沢さを築くために、本当の血を流し、本当の命を失ったすべての人々を見捨てることです。
https://x.com/FedPoasting/status/1908020403059949699
Bugman Hegel
@FedPoasting
For the last six decades, every single legacy institution, academic institution, government institution, and NGO has spent the past decade calling the very people who built this nation various iterations of uniquely, inherently, ontologically evil, calling us racists, and rapists, and genociders, and slavers, and oppressors, and backwoods, and inbreds, and reprobates, and white trash—all the while not-so-secretly making contingency plans for what to do with those of us ultimately considered excess biomass.
The American people decided at the ballot box. It’s time to pay the piper.
Bring back manufacturing, slap tariffs on imports, close the borders, deport the illegals, fire every single spiteful government-funded mutant, and remove the dollar from its position as world reserve currency. Americans, especially those of us who consider ourselves “ethnically” Heritage American—do not care how much it’s going to cost us in the short term; we are willing to sacrifice if it means we don’t have to sit and watch what’s left of our rightful inheritance be burned to the ground.
We want those guilty to pay their due penance. We want heads to roll.
過去 60 年間、あらゆる伝統的な機関、学術機関、政府機関、NGO は、この国を築いたまさにその人々を、さまざまな意味で独特で、本質的に、存在論的に悪であると呼び、私たちを人種差別主義者、強姦者、大量虐殺者、奴隷所有者、抑圧者、田舎者、近親交配者、堕落者、白人ゴミと呼び続けてきました。その間ずっと、余剰バイオマスと見なされる私たちのような人々をどうするかについて、それほど秘密ではない緊急時対応計画を立てていました。
製造業を復活させ、輸入品に関税を課し、国境を封鎖し、不法移民を国外追放し、政府資金で賄われている意地悪な変異種を一人残らず解雇し、ドルを世界の準備通貨の地位から排除する。アメリカ人、特に自分たちを「民族的に」伝統的なアメリカ人だと考える私たちは、短期的にどれだけの費用がかかるかなど気にしない。正当な遺産の残りが焼き尽くされるのをただ座って見過ごす必要がないなら、喜んで犠牲を払うつもりだ。
私たちは罪を犯した者たちに当然の罰を与えてほしい。首が飛ぶことを望んでいる。
