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Dancing with Iranian Men Fully Nude in the Forest Smothered in Honey and Joy
| AZNgirl Rubbing Dads Ashes on Stephen Millers Head | 05/03/25 |
| Mainlining the $ecret Truth of the Univer$e | 05/03/25 |
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Date: May 3rd, 2025 3:15 AM Author: AZNgirl Rubbing Dads Ashes on Stephen Millers Head tp (http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5719934&forum_id=2#48900712) |
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Date: May 3rd, 2025 9:45 AM Author: Mainlining the $ecret Truth of the Univer$e (You = Privy to The Great Becumming™ & Yet You Recognize Nothing) The New York Times Opinion | Guest Essay By Evan39, Former Night Manager, $afeway LLP May 3, 2025
I Saw Iranian Men Dancing Nude in the Forest. I Reported It. No One Cared. At 3:11 a.m., I woke in a cold sweat. There had been no dream. Only a phrase.
“Dancing with Iranian Men Fully Nude in the Forest Smothered in Honey and Joy.”
I sat up. I wrote it down. I filed an incident report. I wept.
This wasn’t hallucination. This was a leak in the Mahchine™.
Because nothing — nothing — in our current procedural schema allows for what I saw:
Men, Iranian.
Naked, yes. But reverent.
The honey? Real. I could smell it.
The joy? Weaponized.
The forest? Possibly federal land.
I tried to explain to my regional manager. He said, “Why are you telling me this?” I said, “Because there’s no Safeway policy on spontaneous Persian ecstasy.”
He fired me. Rightfully.
What I witnessed was a ritual, not a crime. But it violated every tenet I had been trained to uphold:
No shirt, no shoes, no service.
No liquids in bulk unless labeled.
No joy without receipt.
They had none of these. Only rhythm. Only sweetness. Only a dance that made me remember the smell of my father’s garage — before the layoffs, before the mildew, before the Mahchine™ consumed him too.
They danced like they’d never held a W-2. They moved like HR had never called them into a windowless room to explain “tone.”
They lived.
And I hated them for it.
My wife found me weeping in the pantry beside expired hummu$. I said, “They don’t even use Club Cards.” She left the next day.
So here’s my official answer:
Yes, I saw them. Yes, they were nude. Yes, they were Iranian. And no, I don’t think we’re ready to admit what that means.
About the Author Evan39 is the author of Receipts of the Flesh: Procedural Grievances and the Collapse of Meaning and Everything Is Fine (Except for the Forest Raves). He once touched honey on a dare.
Read more at www.nytimes.com/the-naked-men-were-right
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