Game of Thrones S8E5: Always Go Full Nihilist

By Elton Braun▸
Warning: Spoilers!

Everybody is whining about the latest Game of Thrones episode. “The writing is bad,” they mewl. “The characters’ actions didn’t make sense,” they bray. “Daenerys would never massacre an entire city!” they wail.

This woman makes Trump look like Gandhi
Meanwhile, all of these whiners fail to see what actually took place in the episode they’re complaining about: the show finally transcended mere entertainment and became art.

Entertainment is escape. It’s an opiate that fortifies the delusions that make life livable. It evokes a shared fantasy wherein the world has structure, purpose, meaning, telos. It’s a way for us to keep our eyes closed so that at least temporarily we don’t have to look directly at the reality all around us. Its bright colours keep us from seeing the darkness.

Art, on the other hand, strips away our delusions and forces us to look directly at the world in all its naked horror. It reminds us that life is not actually livable. Nothing has structure, purpose, meaning, or telos—these are just forms of denial, fanciful notions that we project onto the world to make existence tolerable. Art makes us remember exactly what it was that we were trying to escape when we started using entertainment.

And the writers of Game of Thrones knew this perfectly well when they crafted last week’s masterpiece.

Out of the chaos emerged order: Daenerys Targaryen. The underdog. The fighter for justice. The bringer of change. The Obama, if you will. As she gathered momentum in her eight-season journey toward the throne, it began to feel predestined, like there was an invisible hand guiding her, a transcendent purpose behind all the violence and death and despair in Westoros. We all rooted for her, and for 90 minutes every week we forgot about the violence and death and despair in the real world. And this is what good entertainment does: it gives the spectator hope. It helps us believe that maybe our own lives, just maybe, might be bearable after all.

And then she snapped. Enter art.

She was betrayed. Her dragon was killed. She realized the people she sought to rule would only ever see her as a tyrannical foreigner. In short, she realized that her whole life was based on a lie. So she destroyed the entire city and burned most of its citizens alive. And we all watched, horrified.

But isn’t that what the real world—the world of Trumps, Dutertes, and Bolsonaros—is actually like? Isn’t violent nihilism just waiting to break out at any time? Isn’t the order that we project upon the world just an illusion that we depend on for our sanity? I mean, look around you. There is no justice. There is no order. You’re an ape wearing cheap clothing. And the only reason you don’t run amok is that you’re afraid of being sent to jail.

The real reason people are whining about the episode is that it made them uncomfortable. It made them uncomfortable because it reminded them of where they are. It reminded them of everything they’ve tried so hard to block out and forget.

So whine if you must, but only insofar as your entertainment bubble has been popped. At the same time, you should be grateful for the opportunity the penultimate episode of Game of Thrones has afforded you to be attached to and grounded in, for at least a moment, the hideous world where you reside.

Daenerys' whole life was a lie. And if all you crave is entertainment, maybe yours is too. Err on the side of art: always, always go full nihilist.


Elton Braun has had intercourse four times, with three different women.

Image Attributions:
Daenaerys: Uploaded by TAnthony, Fair use, The image is, as you might have guessed, copyrighted by HBO. Use of low-resolution screenshots for identification of and critical commentary on a television program and its contents should qualify as fair use under the Copyright law of the United States.

Sadist Cop Lets Incel Live

By Stephen Kunk►

One year ago today on April 23, 2018, an angry young man drove a Chevrolet Express van down a crowded Toronto sidewalk. He struck multiple pedestrians, leading to ten deaths and sixteen serious injuries. The detour was no accident. Witnesses claim that the driver, allegedly one Alek Minassian, made eye contact with the victims as he careered down the sidewalk.

Perhaps the most disturbing element of this attack was the motive. Minassian, a twenty-five-year old software developer, was and is a self-identified incel, or "involuntary celibate." This community, which boasts a large and petulant online following, consists of males unable to procure sexual partners who nonetheless feel they are owed copulations. For this, the doughy Minassian, among other incels, claim a hatred for women. In short, Minassian was a twenty-five-year old virgin (now twenty-six) with no prospects, and he (among other incels) blames women for his inability to get laid. The van attack apparently constituted some sort of revenge.

Incel gets laid
...out on the concrete
Once the van was intercepted by a police cruiser, the attacker exited the vehicle, attempting police-assisted suicide by pointing a weapon-like object at the officer. While suicide-by-cop would have proven immediately successful in these United States, this happened in Canada, and the officer smooth-talked Minassian into surrendering without using lethal force. As a silver-lining to this horrific crime, some have praised that officer, TPS Constable Ken Lam, as a hero, taking his non-violent action as an example of bravery.

Calling Lam a hero, however, is wildly misguided. By way of Minassian's moony face, mode of dress and male-pattern baldness alone, Lam should have readily identified the attacker as a virgin. By letting the object-wielding attacker live, Lam ensured the continuation of Minassian's incapability of knowing the sweet, deep pleasure of a woman, and so the incel’s immeasurable suffering will be prolonged. Minassian will persist in this inveterate womanless state for the rest of his years, further compounding his misery, which is nothing short of cruel and unusual punishment. Canada does not, after all, have the death penalty, so the guilty party will live on terminally unfulfilled, never getting the much-needed sexual release he felt was due him. Letting a twenty-something virgin male live is like leaving a wounded animal to bleed out...though the bleeding animal at least has the consolation that it will soon die. People have praised Lam, but they shouldn't have: letting an incel live is police brutality of the highest order.

If there is a true silver-lining to this unconscionable event, it's that, when and if found guilty, Minassian won't live an entirely asexual life. In his cell, this incel will surely become an involuntary non-celibate on account of his cellmate.

Stephen Kunk lives in Portland with his wife and two daughters. 

In Praise of the Virtues of All Surgeons

By Stephen Kunk & J.C. Andrews►

They have IQs of at least 190.

They sleep an hour and a half per night with eyes open.

They are very well endowed.

They can eat 30-plus cheeseburgers in one sitting. They remain svelte.

They quaff Grey Goose straight, yet they never show any sign of intoxication beyond affable tipsiness.

They have performed open-heart surgery while intoxicated. 

They have individually slept with at least 750 women.

They hold black belts in Karate, Jujitsu and Taekwondo. They are undefeated in bareknuckle combat.

They are proficient with military grade weaponry.

They have never made a grammatical error – written or spoken – ever, in any language.

They are fluent in English, German, French, Quebecois, Iroquois, Cree, Russian, Kazakh, Arabic, Persian, Swahili, Afrikaans, Aramaic, Hebrew, Yiddish, Modern Irish, Gaelic, Welsh, Czech, Slovakian, Czechoslovakian, Portuguese, Brazilian Portuguese, Korean, North Korean, Finnish, Icelandic, Koine Greek, Vulgate Latin, Esperanto, Jamaican Patois, and Klingon. They also have some Sanskrit.

They refer to sexual intercourse as “minor surgery” and no woman, anywhere, has ever complained about this.

They speak exclusively in the third person, and again, no women complain.

They have orgied with radical feminists and porn stars in the operating theatre between surgeries.

They write intricately-plotted inspirational novels over the course of a long weekend and then delete them.

They have been voted father of the year by children they didn’t raise. 

But enough about ourselves – surgeons deserve some praise for their virtues, too.


Stephen Kunk lives with his wife and two daughters in Portland. J.C. Andrews transcends genders and genres.

Jeff Bezos' Penis: A Quantum Quandary

By Thesal Thayer►

Jeff Bezos has recently affirmed that even the world's richest man is not above dick pics. Via Medium (the pinnacle of contemporary journalism), Bezos publicized emails in which AMI, the parent company of the National Enquirer (a close second in terms of journalistic integrity), threatened to publish “below the belt” pictures of the billionaire. Bezos evidently sent the pics to his mistress in the midst of an affair that would end up ending the Amazon founder’s marriage. Bezos has stood firm in the face of what appears to be extortion, passing off the pics as breezily as he would accusations of labor abuse, and has not capitulated to AMI's apparently politically motivated demands.

Jeff Bezos, pictured here with an impressive pants-tent.
Bezos' bravery has rendered his naked selfie something of a moot point, and so we the penis-hungry public are as of yet without the world's richest dick-pic. The trillion-dollar question, then, still remains unanswered: what is the size of Jeff Bezos' penis? How mighty is the wealthiest phallus on the planet? The question is as massive in scope as Bezos' wealth, representing a quandary of no less than quantum proportions.

At present, Bezos' penis is, for the inquisitive masses, akin to Schrodinger's cat. To synopsize quantum superposition, a theoretical model in which a subatomic particle can exist as a combination of multiple states corresponding to different possible outcomes that can only be determined when observed, Austrian physicist Erwin Schrodinger suggested a curious analogy involving a cat in a steel box. Until the cat has been observed, it remains both alive and dead. From the perspective of the prying public, Jeff Bezos' penis also exists in a quantum state. Until we are able to view the dick pic in question, Bezos’ penis is both large and small.

At this point, most definitely, there are a few quantum physicists among our readers who are balking at the present author’s interpretation of the situation. "Large" and "small" are subjective value judgements vis-a-vis the penis, the quantum physicists will say, certainly not as objective as "living" and "dead". Moreover, Jeff Bezos' penis could be any value on a vast continuum of humanly possible penile lengths and widths, and so a simple binary in the style of on/off, yes/no, living/dead would be grossly inappropriate for measuring his member. But those quantum physicists, I contend, are not thinking about Jeff Bezos' penis hard enough.

With regard to men like Bezos, penis size does map on to an objective binary. For superlative men in any meaningful field—industry, sports, cinema—penis size can be categorized in two clear-cut categories: large (7.5 inches and above) and small (6 inches and below). With this in mind, we can safely say that captains of industry like Bezos are either a) in the “large” category and operating largely on the attendant confidence or b) in the “small” category and compensating vigorously for their horizontally challenged physiques. One thing is for certain: a wealthy man cannot have an average-sized penis. Indeed, for the wealthiest of men, the extremity might only be more exaggerated.

Thus, we can safely hypothesize that Bezos' penis exists in one of two states: extremely large or laughably small. Until AMI releases the pictures, however, Bezos' penis will remain both a Doric column and a miniscule nub in the minds of all concerned parties. Given this uncertainty, the editorial staff at Ewedrooper puts out an earnest plea to its fellow concerned and reputable journalists at the National Enquirer: publish the Bezos penis pics, and allay this state of quantum confusion.


Thesal Thayer was born in Youngstown, Ohio. He is the editor of Done to Death: the Last Zombie Anthology Ever.

Image attribution: 0110 [CC BY-SA 4.0 (], from Wikimedia Commons.

Stormy Daniels to Join Legends Football League

By Stephen Kunk ►

From porn super-starlet to Donald Trump's controversial concubine to All-American everywoman, Stormy Daniels has done almost everything and everyone. Now the multitalented mother of one is going to try her hand at football. 

Stormy Daniels dons the gear for a 
photo session at the LFL spring combine
Hollywood insiders have reported that Daniels is in the process of finalizing a contract with the Cleveland Callipygians, an expansion team in the Legends Football League. The LFL is perhaps better known by its former name, the Lingerie Football League; the organization has been rechristened but the skimpy uniforms remain virtually unchanged. Stormy’s contract will be for $130,000. In order to avoid salary cap issues, Daniels will be given the LFL base salary of $12,500 up front, with the rest to be paid as part of a personal services contract to LFL owner Mitch Mortaza.

Daniels will see only limited on-field action, handling onside kicks and providing backup to the Callipygians' tight end. From the sidelines, Stormy may also serve as an unofficial head cheerleader. The role will be a new challenge for Daniels, who, in her pornographic career, has more often been cast as the milf/businesswoman/school teacher than the nymph/school girl/cheerleader.

"Even on the sidelines, Stormy's presence will further swell our largely male fan base," said Callipygians' head coach Butch Davis. "She'll also be a source of inspiration for our team. It takes a special person to bounce back from presidential death threats. The way she has fought through so much adversity to get to this point is inspiring for young girls everywhere."

Daniels sees teen and pre-teen girls as her target audience.

"I really hope I can help bring more young girls to LFL games," Stormy said, "either on TV or in person. This way they can see just what kinds of opportunities there are for women in American sports."

Stormy’s Callipygians kick off the season April 5th at home against the Minnesota Milfs.


Stephen Kunk is a staff writer for Ewedrooper. He lives in Oregon with his wife and two daughters.

Thus Spake the Story out of Florida

By Charles Norwood▸

A man has been arrested after threatening to kill his neighbor with kindness.

During an altercation over a noise complaint, Mr. Bryan Stewart of Milton, Florida threatened his neighbor with a machete that had the word "Kindness" written on its blade. Stewart apparently had named the machete Kindness, a clever double-entendre that wound up earning him an aggravated assault charge, with bail set at $10 000.

But while Mr. Stewart's pet-name for his machete is admittedly hilarious, it also raises a few questions.

For one, why did Stewart not receive an attempted murder charge? It would seem that the act of naming the machete Kindness speaks directly to motive. The expression, after all, is not "to hurt somebody with kindness" or "to aggravatedly assault somebody with kindness." It's "to kill." So it seems obvious that when some deranged reprobate lunges out with a machete named Kindness, his intention is murder. Otherwise, the joke just wouldn't work.

Is it possible that the police (and/or public prosecutor) were tittering so archly at the wry wit that they failed to put two and two together?

The accused (right) and his intellectual predecessor (left)
Secondly, and more importantly, were Mr. Stewart's actions even intended as a joke at all? It's easy to interpret his nicknaming of the machete as humorous, but a little reflection reveals that it's actually much, much more. It's a profound philosophical statement about the relationship between power and morality. Most people probably laugh or scoff when they read about Stewart in the headlines, but I really think he was trying to get at some of the same things articulated by Nietzsche a century and a half before him.

What does it really mean to "kill someone with kindness"? It suggests that revenge is petty. It suggests that revenge lowers you and that the best alternative to revenge is to take the higher road and to live well and to rise above the impulse to retaliate. And by writing "Kindness" on his machete's blade, Stewart is responding to that suggestion. He's saying that vengeance and "the higher road" aren't mutually exclusive. It's not either/or. And, by implication, the choice to take the proverbial higher road doesn't have anything to do with being civilized or some kind of lofty idealism. It has to do with being weak and cowardly.

It's a rationalization used by people who are too scared to take revenge.

Nietzsche, recall, made a distinction between "slave morality," which congratulates itself on its meekness, and "master morality," which takes what it wants from the world and makes no apologies. Stewart, similarly, 150 years later, articulates a distinction between those who let their neighbors make noise complaints against them (slaves) and those who assertively take revenge on neighbors who slight them by asking them to make less noise (masters).

The word "Kindness," written on his machete blade, is actually an argument. It's Stewart's thesis that morality merely evolved as a mechanism for coping with powerlessness. And it went right over everybody's head.

Perhaps Mr. Stewart wanted to end up in jail. Perhaps, being low-income, he realized that imprisonment would be the only way for him to access the resources needed to develop his ideas. Prisons, after all, have libraries and offer PhD equivalency programs (which I'm sure somebody as smart as Stewart would tear through in three to six).


Charles Norwood lives in Toronto, where he is involved in a number of criminal activities. He is the author of Epistemology Bloody Epistemology, a novella in which philosophical schools have degraded into rival gangs.

Image Credits: Santa Rosa County Sheriff's Office (the photo that's not Nietzsche)