@EmmaFaber
"There are a nonzero number of bad actors in the other group therefore all of their needs and problems must go to the wayside."

There's an entire world you're shielded from but for not being a man.
@LukeAlmighty

@r000t
Nice picture, but this single point should be seriously highlighted, especially since it can (and most of the time does) lead to one of only legal ways of becoming a slave in modern time...
@EmmaFaber

@LukeAlmighty @r000t

Men's have devoted their entire male history to intimidating women

cos that is how the male population as a collective get their kicks
it is a big sugar hit for them all, it's a dopamine hit and is why the dopes are mean
especially when they are all together in their male gangs
men are all very very confident then, grinning from ear to ear and waving their bayonets around while being backed by each other
and you will never see such male camaraderie at any other time than that
and it is all a matter of male pride
and men then will wear it as a badge of male honour
because men are cowards like that

@r000t @LukeAlmighty

but you know laws alter but men never
and is why today hard core porn is so popular among men

The press frequently mentioned the subject of husbands' belief in their right to physically hurt their wives. The editor of The Times (24 Aug 1846) criticised the lenient sentences handed out by magistrates: 'The conjugal tie appears to be considered as conferring on the man a certain degree of impunity for brutality towards the woman.' The Morning Chronicle wrote on 31 May 1850:

'It is evident to all who take any pains to read the indications of the feelings of the populace, that they are impressed with the belief of their having a right to inflict almost any amount of corporal violence on their wife or their children. That anyone should claim to interfere with this supposed right causes them unaffected surprise.

It is not their wife or child? Are they not entitled to do was they will with their own? These phrases are not, to their apprehension, metaphorical. The shoes on their feet, the cudgel in their hand, the horse or ass that carries their burden, the wife and children, all are "theirs" and all in the same sense. Doubtless they are aware that they are not a liberty to inflict death; but when they actually do so, and find that they are tried for murder, they seem to receive the information with a kind of stolid astonishment; and it may well appear to them anomalous that a creature is given up to their power to be kicked or beaten, at the peril of life, as often as temper or intoxication may prompt... At present it is the universal belief of the labouring class, that the law permits them to beat their wives, and the wives themselves share the general error. [emphasis in original]

While churchmen got involved in issues such as prostitution, crime, alcoholism and even woman's suffrage, they were strangely silent on this subject, though one clergyman in Cumbria claimed that the 'Law of God' permitted men to beat their wives.

News reports of wife beating cases were exceedingly common. In 1853 Henry Fitzroy MP remarked that 'No one could read the public journals without being constantly struck with horror and amazement at the numerous reports of cases of cruel and brutal assaults perpetrated upon the weaker sex by men?

but of course that is how many men get their kicks by annihilating women
and as these are the same men who run the internet and the rest of the world then of course they are going to provide themselves with platforms to express their porn sick sadistic views
whether that be paedophiles who have been occasionally oppressed or other men in like minded groups
now they are awarded platforms everywhere and can openly link up and discuss their porn sick ideas and network with each other
because that is what men have been moaning about

they couldn't discuss what they wanted to, like raping children and ripping into women because it became politically incorrect

@EmmaFaber @LukeAlmighty
Good lord, it's a Caesar word salad, complete with broad-sweeping generalizations, weasel words, composition fallacies, a complete lack of sources cited (outside of a newspaper editorial from over 170 years ago and some random loser's book written over 160 years ago), and idunno, it just seems like you got an irrational hate for dudes. How's your relationship with your father?

Also uh.... If we're citing sources from over 150 years ago, I can play by those rules, but you probably won't like the outcome: There's not a whole lot of scientific material from that era that paints women in a positive light.

Anyway, here, I got a tl;dr for you, too:

Born with genius-level intellect, Ekko constructed simple machines before he could crawl. His parents, Inna and Wyeth, vowed to provide a good future for their son—Zaun, with all its pollution and crime, would only stifle Ekko, whom they felt deserved the wealth and opportunities of Piltover. Throughout his youth he watched his parents age beyond their years, toiling for too many hours under dangerous conditions in suffocating factories. They earned meager wages while greedy factory owners, and sneering Piltovan buyers, profited immensely from their labor.

It would all be worth it, they reasoned, if it meant their son could one day rise to the city above.

Ekko saw things differently. Beyond Zaun’s flaws, he saw a dynamic place overflowing with energy and potential. Zaunites’ industry, resourcefulness, and resilience stirred a hotbed of pure innovation. They had built a thriving culture from catastrophe, and flourished where others would have perished. That spirit captivated Ekko, and spurred him to a youth of wild invention and innovation.

He wasn’t alone. He befriended scrappy orphans, inquisitive runaways, and eager upstarts. Zaunites tended to eschew formal education in favor of apprenticeships, but these “Lost Children of Zaun” looked to the labyrinthine streets to be their mentor. They wasted time in glorious, youthful fashion—foot races through the border markets, or daring climbs from the Sump to the Promenade. They ran wild and free, answering to no one.

One night, on a solo trek into the rubble of a recently demolished laboratory, Ekko made an astonishing find: a shard of blue-green crystal that glittered with magical energy. Every child of Zaun heard tales of hextech, said to power weapons and heroes alike. Such a thing had the potential to change the world, and now he held a broken one. He scrambled to find more pieces, but the crunching footfalls of teched-up enforcers told him he wasn’t the only one looking. Ekko barely escaped, and returned to his home.

He experimented madly with the crystal. During one less-than-scientific attempt, the gem exploded into a vortex of shimmering dust, triggering eddies of temporal distortion. Ekko opened his eyes to see several splintered realities—and several “echo” versions of himself—staring back in sheer panic amid the fractured continua.

He’d really done it this time.

After some tense coordination between Ekko and his paradoxes, they managed to contain and repair the hole he had torn in the fabric of reality. Eventually, he harnessed the shattered crystal’s temporal powers into a device that would allow him to manipulate small increments of time… at least in theory.

On his name day, his friends badgered him into climbing the ancient clocktower known as Old Hungry, so Ekko brought the untested device along with him.

The Lost Children climbed, stopping occasionally to paint an obscene caricature or two of prominent Pilties. They were near the top when a handhold gave way, sending one of Ekko’s friends tumbling to certain doom. Instinctively—as if he’d done it a thousand times before—Ekko activated his device. The world shattered around him, and he was wrenched backward through swirling particles of time.

Then Ekko was back, watching his friend reach again for the same rotting plank. The plank broke, the boy fell… but Ekko was ready this time, diving to the edge and grabbing him by the shirt. Ekko tried to swing him to safety, but his friend became caught in the tower’s clockwork gears, and—

Stop. Rewind.

Several attempts later, Ekko finally saved his friend’s life. But to his crew, Ekko’s supernatural reflexes had saved their friend before anyone even realized the danger. He told them about the crystal and made them swear to secrecy. Instead, they dared each other to new heights of foolishness, knowing Ekko had the means to pluck them out of danger.

With each trial, and so much error, the time-warping device—which Ekko dubbed the Zero Drive—grew more and more stable. The only limit was how many do-overs his body could take before exhaustion set in.

Ekko’s time-bending antics have made him a person of interest to some of Zaun and Piltover’s most inventive, most powerful, and most dangerous individuals. But his only interest is in his friends, his family, and his city. [TRIMMED]

@r000t @LukeAlmighty

So when men globally declared themselves superior to the female human
what happened after that?

Did men really prance around their wooden totem poles singing
"we only want son's cos daughters are not worth even two of them?"

Men joined at the hip and jaw in tooth and claw committed themselves to their very first holocaust

the holocaust of all holocausts
where men did not erase millions off the face of the earth
but billions

and that is what we know about men and their tyrannical male history

and this idea men held that women were a nothing compared to them
has not magically disappeared
and although a few laws alter, men never ever change

and you keep telling me how cowardly you all are
and you know that is also a pattern of male behaviour that never alters,
so you keep on keeping on

you bunch of cowards

@EmmaFaber @LukeAlmighty
It had been a weeklong sort of day.

For Ekko, this was both literal and metaphorical. Everything went wrong and it took forever to put it back just right. First, Ajuna had nearly gotten himself killed trying to climb Old Hungry. The younger boy wanted so desperately to be like Ekko that he vaulted up the side of the clockwork tower at the heart of the sump before any of their friends could stop him. It was the first tricky jump that nearly did the kid in. Good thing Ekko had triggered his Z-Drive. Eighteen times he heard the blood-curdling scream of the boy falling to his death before he figured out how and where to arrest the fall and save his life.

Then, while pillaging a scrap heap with ties to Clan Ferros for bits of tech, a particularly aggressive gang of vigilnauts surrounded him. Big ones, too, covered in augments that made the ugly even uglier. Ekko was surprised at their speed, but less surprised at how they shot to kill. Pilties and their backup didn’t care about the lives of sumpsnipes like him. Good thing the Z-Drive existed to get him out of seemingly inescapable encounters like that one. After a few dozen rewinds, he changed tack and pulled out his latest toy: the Flashbinder. It was meant to explode in a dazzling flash and pull anything not bolted down in toward its center.

But the Flashbinder didn’t work. Well, at least not as intended. It exploded. And that’s when things got interesting. Unlike most of Ekko’s inventions that exploded, the blue-hot magical detonation froze in mid blast. Columns of billowing blue energy fanned out from the epicenter. Bits of the disc’s shrapnel twisted at a snail’s pace along what, at normal explosion velocity, would be a deadly trajectory. Even the spherical blinding flash itself was frozen in space.

And then it got even more interesting. The explosion imploded, reforming itself into the palm-sized Flashbinder, and rewound back toward Ekko, landing square in his palm, as cold as the wind.

Cool, Ekko thought. He rewound the moment so he could throw it at the vigilnauts a few more times. For science, of course.

When Ekko finally got home, his body was tired, but his mind was alert. The apartment was functional – the furniture sparse and with little flourish. Ekko’s room was a little curtained-off nook filled with discarded books, bits of scavenged technology, and hiding spots for the Z-Drive and Flashbinder. Today was one of the rare days both his parents would be home early, and he had something to tell them.

“Mom, Dad.” He practiced to his reflection, which stared back at him from the Z-Drive’s shiny cylindrical surface. “I’m not going to apply to any of the Uppside clans or a snooty Piltie school. I’m staying here with you and my friends. I’ll never turn my back on Zaun.”

The words were filled with the confidence that comes with being alone in an empty apartment, with only walls and reflections to respond. And their response was silence.

He heard the jingle of the keys, muffled by the front door. Without a second to spare, Ekko tucked his Z-Drive under the table and draped a black cloth over it. He didn’t want them worrying about his escapades with an unstable hextech time-manipulation device.

The door opened and Ekko’s parents returned for the first time that night. They looked like strangers to their own son, their jobs aging them even more in the weeks since he’d seen them last together. Their routine was predictable. They’d shuffle home, supply a meager meal purchased with the day’s wages, save the rest of the money for taxes and bribes, then fall asleep in their chairs, chins resting on chests, until Ekko removed their workboots and helped them into their beds.

The bags under their eyes carried enough weight to pull their heads down. Tucked under his mother’s arm was a small paper-wrapped bundle, bound at the ends with twine.

“Hello, my little genius.” His mother expended energy she couldn't afford in an attempt to make the words come alive. Yet her expression in that moment of lightness when she saw her son sitting at the table, waiting, was something no one could fake.

“Hey, Mom. Hey, Dad.” The three of them hadn’t sat at a table as a family in such a long time. He quietly chided himself for not saying something substantial.

His father beamed with pride; then he mock-scowled as he brushed his fingers through his son’s mohawk. Ekko struggled to remember a time when his father didn’t look so old, before the prematurely thinning hair and the deep wrinkles in his brow.

“I thought I told you to cut that hair,” his father said. “It’ll make you stand out in the Piltover academies too much. The Factorywood’s the only place you can look like that. They’ll take anyone. And you are not anyone. How are your applications coming?”

This was the moment. Ekko felt the words he’d practiced swimming up to be spoken. The hope in his father’s eyes gave him pause.

His mother filled that empty moment before Ekko could. [TRIMMED]

@r000t @LukeAlmighty

WOMEN LISTEN UP
this is men's real history and this is how brave men are

men build themselves up, boost their own male self esteem
by smashing all yours down
and it is a default fault pattern of male behaviour worldwide
and that is what their entire patriarchy is built on and it ticks all their porn sick little boxes inside their porn sick little male minds

and is why men all put their shields up when you turn up to discuss it
because men don't want to discuss it
because they are having far to much of a good time ripping into us women and tearing off our skin

@EmmaFaber @LukeAlmighty “We have a treat for you.” She set the brown parcel down on the table. They pulled their chairs close to watch as Ekko reached over and untied the knotted twine, straightened both strings, and laid them next to him. He unraveled the butcher paper without a single rip. In the center lay a small loaf of fragrant sweetbread, its crust glazed with honey and candied nuts. The cake was from Elline. She made the finest pastries in all of Zaun, and charged a pretty penny for them too. Ekko and his friends often pilfered her desserts from the rich folk who paid the hefty price without even a tiny hesitation.

Ekko’s head shot up to see his parents’ reaction. Their eyes were beaming. “This is too much,” he said. “We need meat and real supper, not sweets.”

“We would never forget your name day,” his father said with a chuckle. “Looks like you did, though.”

Ekko had completely lost track of what day it really was. Still, the gift was too extravagant. Especially since he was about to shatter their hopes for him. Guilt rose in his throat. “The landlord’ll have our heads if we’re late with rent again.”

“Let us worry about that. You deserve something nice,” his mother said. “Go on, you can have cake for dinner once a year.”

“What are you going to eat?”

“I’m not hungry,” she said.

“I ate at work,” his father lied. “Cheese and meats from Piltover. Real nice stuff.”

They watched Ekko take a tiny bite of the cake. It was sweet and buttery and the crumbs stuck to his fingers. It was so rich, the taste stuck to his tongue. Ekko went to divide the cake into three pieces, but his mother shook her head. Her soft voice hummed the name day song’s playful melody and he knew they wouldn’t partake. It was his parents’ gift to him.

His father would have joined in singing the name day song if he hadn’t already fallen asleep, slumped in his chair, chin dropping to his chest. Ekko glanced over to his mother, her eyes fluttered closed as the melody was swallowed by her own encroaching slumber.

One future Ekko briefly considered was the Factorywood life and barely living wages for some other city’s benefit, for someone else’s glory. He couldn’t stomach the thought. He remembered fragments of conversations, snippets heard through the filter of infant ears, of his parents’ whispered dreams of inventions, and entrance to the clans. Ideas they hoped would change the world and contribute to a future unwritten by the birth of their son. Ekko knew they saw him as their only hope. But he loved life in Zaun. If he did as they wished, who would take care of them or his friends?

He couldn’t dash their dreams. Not tonight, on his name day. Maybe tomorrow.

Ekko didn’t finish his cake beyond the first bite. Instead he primed his Z-Drive. His home shattered into swirling eddies of colored dust. The thrum of the everyday fell to absolute silence. The moment splintered and encircled him in a vortex of light.

When the fragments of the future reassembled into the past, Ekko’s parents were coming home for the second time that night. It would be followed by a third, a fourth, a fifth, a sixth, and so on.

Each time he went back, Ekko didn’t change a single thing; the light in his mother’s eyes, his father’s proud smile as he nodded off. But Ekko fought the edges of sleep to hold onto those stolen moments forever, until finally, he let his mother’s soft voice, and the warmth of their little apartment lull him to sleep.

It had been a weeklong sort of day.

@r000t @LukeAlmighty

Women listen up, in a man's world the male is the protected sex and is why men call it a man's world and a no woman's land
because the female according to men, is the outsider trespassing there

@EmmaFaber @LukeAlmighty

@r000t @EmmaFaber
I love the fact, that no matter what you or I say, she just insist, that you are attacking her, and wish to abuse women....

@LukeAlmighty @EmmaFaber yeah, this person's using some other, proprietary version of reality. different, incompatible ABI.

best thing to do is just issue random calls and see what it does, for entertainment, and science.

@LukeAlmighty @r000t

Women listen,
the internet is run by porn sick sadistic perverted bastards and they run it for their own male satisfaction and they have allowed not only themselves but the rest of their maggot brained crew, aka team manhood the rights to have platforms to be able to contact each other and network to discuss their sadistic sexual tendencies.

Paedophiles are all over twitter, FB and google and youtube and all are allowed to fully communicate with each other and openly express their fantasies and desires to rape children
and of course we mustn't forget pornhub where men load up their videos of the women and children they have abused so their team manhood can all join them in celebrating the kill of their all time favourite prey and cheer them on in male solidarity because nothing unites men in the name of their manhood more than that
and you know
children are to paedo's
what women are to men
PORN
a means to an end to bell-ends

@EmmaFaber @r000t

If you want me to post porn, all you have to do is ask... I am tired of this passive agressive BS.

@LukeAlmighty @EmmaFaber legit, she's going on about porn an awful lot, given that nobody brought it up except her

that fruedian slip tho

@r000t @LukeAlmighty

The only things men have ever worshipped are their little male selves and their little dicks and their biological bigger fists

The male preys on the female and all those females caught in male cultures need help to escape them
Men write all the religions so they can worship their little male selves

@EmmaFaber @r000t
Ok, I get it... here you go...

@LukeAlmighty @r000t

Children are to Paedo's
what Women are to Men
**PORN**
a means to an end
something to jerk their little willies to
bell-ends

Men are special in a man's world and have special needs and are a special needs case
and just because men have a special need to sexually abuse women and children
doesn't mean men should be criticised for it, well not in a man's world because in it men are soo special and are above the law and men created their loop holes in their laws so they could escape justice

@EmmaFaber @r000t
I get it that you LOVE porn so much, that you have to keep posting about it all day, but if you don't mind, I won't react any further, since you do not seem to want any kind of conversation.

No matter what we post, you just keep spaming your copypasta, and if all you want to tell me is that you love porn so much, there is nothing further I can gain from this conversation.

@LukeAlmighty @r000t

The first place the male abuses the female and her image
in inside his own little male mind
and when he is in gang of like minded men, his crew, his brothers in arms, his kin
he can openly express all his festering sick sordid brains out and splatter his insidious little thoughts everywhere
and why men everywhere have flooded their internet with them
because it is a fucking religion to them
and we know what men worship and idolise

@EmmaFaber @LukeAlmighty
>I found this on an incel forum
>this is how all 3.5 billion men act

fuck man, and here I thought the sample sizes my teammates use were hilariously small

so uh
1) you never answered my question, how's your relationship with your father?

2) how mad are you gonna be when you figure out that your instance is run by a man?

@r000t @LukeAlmighty

said the Nazi to the Jew

@EmmaFaber @LukeAlmighty

You never answered my question tho: How's your relationship with your father?