Shop Mobile More Submit  Join Login
About Varied / Hobbyist NavarreMale/United States Recent Activity
Deviant for 5 Years
Needs Core Membership
Statistics 140 Deviations 2,310 Comments 8,991 Pageviews
×

Newest Deviations

Literature
38. Abandoned
"Caster," they called him. He who had once been known, respected even, as the village's finest medicine man, was now nothing but a tool, a distantly viewed object and an indistinct entity from the artifact that had been bestowed, or rather thrust, upon him. How appallingly insulting that was. How thoroughly disgusting.
He was no mere tool, and they should have known. He was Ufezel'a Raem il-Enhlei, named for his father, and his father's father before him. He had done much for his tribe, led them in times of uncertainty, and secured their place within the Sultanate which cared for Mother Irkhay'i. Perhaps that was the source of their hatred. They had no idea the future that was within their grasp if they would only follow the Sultan into the stars. The splendor of Mother Irkhay'i could not be spread through idleness, only through action. He brought his people to the Sultan himself, to the source of their future. He took the name Klein among outsiders, shaming himself and only himself in
:iconRawkHawkFTW:RawkHawkFTW
:iconrawkhawkftw:RawkHawkFTW 0 3
Literature
37. See
"We both know your parents will be here soon, Seinfred. Would you mind not breaking out this time?"
"I can't really make any promises, chief. I'm pretty hard to keep in, ya know?" Ignoring the difficulty presented by her hands currently being held together, she flexed, showing off her astounding biceps. The sound of an iron gate slamming shut echoed through the room, enough to make even the hardened soul that now stood alone, and still flexing, wince. She attempted to fix her hat, but between the wild mane of red hair and the electromagnetic cuffs it ended up just falling to floor. Huffing and blowing a stray strand of hair out of her face, she frowned when it ended up right back in front of her face. This goddamn thing never moves... Sighing, the girl decided to lie down and stare at the ceiling for a while. What would mom think?
"What'd you do this time, Soiree? Another break-in? More fighting? Both? I can't even say I'm surprised." Yeah, that sounded about right for ol
:iconRawkHawkFTW:RawkHawkFTW
:iconrawkhawkftw:RawkHawkFTW 1 8
Literature
36. Precious
    Her name was Amelia Jameson. She was a shorter girl, her hair a shade of brown that reminded me of one of those cups of coffee you see in commercials, but never in real life. It went down to around her knees, way too long to be sensible, but not quite long enough to be off-putting, and just long enough to really catch the eye. She was a pretty girl all around. Her face had a gentleness to it you didn't see in a lot of other girls, and her eyes always seemed to convey a purer smile than any words could describe. The curves of her body, much as I would have loved to describe them, are not something with which I am especially familiar. I could never describe how I feel about her, but even so I try to do my best. I love her more than anything.
    But, of course, she doesn't feel the same at all.
    Why is that? It's not hard to explain, really. She just has someone else. We're just friends, great friends even, there's no doubt about that. Every da
:iconRawkHawkFTW:RawkHawkFTW
:iconrawkhawkftw:RawkHawkFTW 0 0
Literature
##. Ancient Interlude
William Reinfleche was many, many things. The once-noble son of the Reinfleche family. The self-styled guardian of the Faron Woods. The former husband of Ilyana Reinfleche. He was a warrior, a hero, a lech, an adulterer, a liar, and a traitor. But what was he now? Now, he was a general of order. A man of the law. A husband to another. He was Verrater, and he knew not why he had done much of what he did.
He rode home tiredly, trying his very best not to think on the losses he had suffered today. Those damned rebels were always one step ahead of him. He wished it would end, wished things could be simpler. He wished, above all, for a simpler time. His thoughts drifted to his old love. Ilyana had been perfect for him. She had always loved him, cared for him, done her very best for him. And he had betrayed her, in what he could only describe as a fit of childish passion, with a girl who had scarcely entered into womanhood, a girl he had barely known. It was his own fault. It had always been
:iconRawkHawkFTW:RawkHawkFTW
:iconrawkhawkftw:RawkHawkFTW 1 10
Alex Sketch (Realism Practice) :iconrawkhawkftw:RawkHawkFTW 1 5
Literature
35. Journey
For a girl only 17 years old, Sara had seen a great deal of the Galaxy. She'd spoken with masters of countless esoteric martial arts, using her authority as a Warden, even if only in training, to gain access to their most secret techniques. Many of them had been learned, mastered, and discarded in favor of more useful techniques, and now, at the age of 17, she had access to knowledge few in the galaxy even considered might exist. While she cultivated the appearance of relying heavily on her status as a Blank, the truth was that she had a great deal more up her sleeve, so to speak.
The Stance of Deflection, learned from a Master she had spoken with twice before in her youth, was something she practiced so frequently it was second nature at this point. The world Sara saw was one where anything could bring her harm at a moment's notice, and this cultivated, controlled paranoia allowed her to stay on edge at all times. The Third Eye, a technique taught to her by the Corsiva, the people of
:iconRawkHawkFTW:RawkHawkFTW
:iconrawkhawkftw:RawkHawkFTW 1 16
Literature
34. Onward
Xanfaelor sighed wistfully as he sipped from a glass of wine. The latest vintage of the Autumnwood Sauvignon was underwhelming, to say the least. It was almost certainly the grapes. Though he tried to spend as much time at the Vineyard as possible, the time he spent traveling to and from the other major Horde cities took up much more time than he would have liked to admit. Looking aside to a painting above his fireplace, one of himself and his late wife, Xanfaelor idly swirled the wine in its glass. “Miriel, my dear, you must forgive me for this. I've done my best to keep things as in order as I can, but it's taking much more time than I hoped.” He tossed the wine into the fire, setting the glass aside.
“Do you think I should return to spending all of my time here? You know as well as I do that isn't prudent. The Vineyard will never return to what it once was before we-” He stopped speaking, frowning to himself. I'm doing it again, he thought. Don't sl
:iconRawkHawkFTW:RawkHawkFTW
:iconrawkhawkftw:RawkHawkFTW 0 3
Literature
33. Expectations
Greatness in the Telisium did not come to those who sat idly by, or so they said. The truth was that it came mostly to those fortunate enough to be graced by it. Juno Malmkvist was one of the Hundred Brides, a position nearly every woman in the Telisium dreamed of, and Alessandro Malmkvist had inherited the prestigious title of Lord Captain from their father. But Iris, the youngest child of the three, had gained nothing. She was expected to go nowhere in life. In spite of this, or perhaps because of it, she excelled in her studies, and prayed to the Prince with a zeal that was rarely seen even in the highest orders of the faith. In due time her diligence was rewarded, and she was inducted into training with the Right Hand, the military arm of the Prince's church.
By the age of 15, Iris had been formally inducted as an Inquisitor, a position nearly unheard of for someone her age. Surprise and the occasional mention in the noble courts would turn to awe and discussion everywhere when, at
:iconRawkHawkFTW:RawkHawkFTW
:iconrawkhawkftw:RawkHawkFTW 0 15
Literature
To Yoritomo Zhao, from Empress Hantei XLIV
Yoritomo Zhao,
    I hope you have fared well on your journey. Before I say any more, I must ensure that this is made clear to you: All that you read in this letter is to be shared with no one, not even your fellow Emerald Magistrates. This is of the utmost importance, Zhao.
    Now then, to the matter itself. I, Akane, Empress Hantei XLIV, have deemed you my choice to serve as my consort and, in time, husband. I am sure you are quite surprised by this news. It is right for you to be, after all. A mere Mantis bushi, chosen to be the husband of the Empress? I confess, I am as truly surprised as you must be, but I have found myself thoroughly taken by you. Your strength, your stoicism, your dutiful service to Rokugan, all of this and so much more has fed into my decision.
    If you feel so inclined as to honor me with your agreement to these terms, then upon your return to the Imperial Court, show the brooch I have sent alongside this letter to either of th
:iconRawkHawkFTW:RawkHawkFTW
:iconrawkhawkftw:RawkHawkFTW 0 6
One Lucky Ancient :iconrawkhawkftw:RawkHawkFTW 0 15
Literature
32. Night
Alex wasn't known for being a smart guy by any means, but he had to admit that heading down into the storm drains alone at 3 in the morning wasn't one of his brightest ideas. He'd been lucky enough to find a stick he could wrap his shirt around and use as a torch, but God only knew how long that would last and he definitely didn't want to be stuck down here when that ran out. He'd heard rumors of sweet parties going on down here late at night, though, and dammit he'd get there.
The going was rough, cold, and generally unpleasant, but after another half an hour or so, he could feel the faintest thumping sound off in the distance. He grinned to himself and picked up the pace, glad he'd been right about being able to find the place. The thumping slowly got louder, and it was obvious he was headed in the right direction. When he made it to the solid gold door, though, he knew beyond any shadow of a doubt he was in the right place. The two bouncers in front of it looked pretty tough, and he
:iconRawkHawkFTW:RawkHawkFTW
:iconrawkhawkftw:RawkHawkFTW 1 29
Literature
##. Repentance
High Witch Mausolinia Wellus had slain many in the Telisium and Empire alike. She was a proud woman, a mighty sorceress of her Lord Nergal. Countless foes had fallen to her dark magics, and she considered it beneath her to think of much beyond this. Her daughters were perhaps her only failings, and they were little more than blights upon her name as far as she was concerned.
Her latest run through the Telisium world of Krain had been, as far as she was concerned, a success. They had taken no small amount of citizens captive, sure to serve as excellent gifts to Nergal. But for now they had to care for these people well, for no poorly-kept slave would do well for her Lord. So despite her misgivings, she took to the duties well, keeping the people well-fed, well-kept, and in generally good condition. One of the prisoners in particular had been chosen by Duke Rahacon to be a future Witch, a young girl whose parents had been left behind on Krain. Mausolinia did not particularly enjoy dealin
:iconRawkHawkFTW:RawkHawkFTW
:iconrawkhawkftw:RawkHawkFTW 0 8
Literature
31. Flowers
Some said that white flowers were the best for a mourner. Others said black. Still others (those Castillians, typical of them) claimed it was red. Alden Southerland, however, knew that he needed no flowers to mourn today. Gregory had always hated them, a strange thing to hate Alden had always thought, but Gregory claimed they did nothing but look pretty. “Just like you,” he would always add with a wink. Alden would laugh, slap him on the back, and the two of them would both take great amusement in the fact that everyone in their company thought they were a pair of fruits.
Alden smiled at the memory, kneeling down at the grave of his friend. Gregory Miles Paxton, Sergeant of the Hawk, it read. It amused Alden that in spite of his seniority, Gregory had never bothered to go any higher in the ranks. “Too much work,” he claimed. “I like being sergeant. I do work and I get paid.” Alden had never really understood, but it made him happy, so who was he to a
:iconRawkHawkFTW:RawkHawkFTW
:iconrawkhawkftw:RawkHawkFTW 0 8
Literature
30. Rain
Alessia loved the rain. As someone that made their living on the subtle, underhanded arts, the rain was her natural ally, making everything darker and muffling a great deal of noise. She even enjoyed sleeping in the rain, and many a time she had been roused in her sleep by a confused crewman that was gravely concerned that the captain's intelligencer might fall from her hammock under the crow's nest during a storm.
No one knew, of course, and she was certainly not telling, but the only time she had ever kissed a man for intimate reasons had been in the rain. She had intentionally caught him in the courtyard of the Academy and carefully padded out a conversation until the dark clouds above no longer warned of rain, but provided it. Zhang had been irritated at first, but she knew he had been more amused than anything. They were both in their finest attire for graduation, and both of their outfits had almost assuredly been ruined, but it had been worth it for that one moment. They had alw
:iconRawkHawkFTW:RawkHawkFTW
:iconrawkhawkftw:RawkHawkFTW 0 3
Literature
29. Urban
Downtown Puerto Picaro was probably one of the worst places on Aventura, if Alex was being honest with himself. Sure, he and the guys always had a good time, but they made it for themselves. For all the great fun knocking some dumb rich kid out could be if you sat in the more reputable parts of town, more often than not you basically had to call up everyone you knew, tell them there was a party, and make sure you said to bring everyone they knew. That guaranteed a block party, and a block party meant everyone was gonna be there.
Way too many for the pigs to take everyone to county, at the very least.
Hopping in his car (and ignoring the calls from his mom asking him to stay safe, as he always did), he pulled out his phone and dialed in for his main man Erik. It rang five and a half times, and Alex hung up before it even started the voicemail message. Erik always answered on the fifth ring without fail. He was an autistic fuck like that, and he was such a light sleeper that he'd
:iconRawkHawkFTW:RawkHawkFTW
:iconrawkhawkftw:RawkHawkFTW 0 4
Literature
28. Sorrow
"...And so, as is the custom in House Corga, we release the ashes of the young Prince Sarla to the winds, to be carried to the corners of the world and see all that there is to see." Lasye Asher held tightly to his wife as the priest released the ashes, unable to hold back tears at the thought of his son gone from the world. Only 19 when he passed, and so honest and forthright. He had been a man of the people, a hero to the commonfolk. It was no surprise that his end had come defending them, but that in no way lessened the pain of his loss.
Gently taking Sasye's hand, Lasye walked away from the cliffside, glancing once more at the sea and the great expanses beyond before leading her back home, to the manor. The whole while Lasye was deep in thought. It had been decades, and yet now he heard the words of his father more clearly than ever. Strength often dwells in unselfish people, Lasye. They're the ones that often have more strength than anyone else. The thought was etched into
:iconRawkHawkFTW:RawkHawkFTW
:iconrawkhawkftw:RawkHawkFTW 0 10

Favourites

Cu Chulainn and Scathach :icontsuchinoetatsuya:TsuchinoeTatsuya 35 8 Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann :iconsmolb:Smolb 344 18 Would you? :iconuzucake:Uzucake 6,469 187 Tanya Degurechaff :iconmasa1989:Masa1989 323 63
Mature content
[Commission] Tlazolteotl - Eater of Sins :iconnsio:Nsio 476 37
oni :iconkuvshinov-ilya:Kuvshinov-Ilya 4,196 68 Umbral Star :iconrimuu:rimuu 2,144 83 Wounded Unicorn :iconchasingartwork:ChasingArtwork 1,175 35 MHX :iconrimuu:rimuu 1,603 52 coy snakes :iconyukihomu:yukihomu 1,093 22 Windrunner - DotA 2 :iconyukionetwo:yukionetwo 95 8 DotA - Lina Inverse :iconyukionetwo:yukionetwo 292 25 Troublemakers :iconsmolb:Smolb 519 11 S : G :iconrimuu:rimuu 2,139 108 Morning Routine :iconkata-009:kata-009 4,087 229 usagi :iconkuvshinov-ilya:Kuvshinov-Ilya 7,271 128

Groups

Activity


"Caster," they called him. He who had once been known, respected even, as the village's finest medicine man, was now nothing but a tool, a distantly viewed object and an indistinct entity from the artifact that had been bestowed, or rather thrust, upon him. How appallingly insulting that was. How thoroughly disgusting.

He was no mere tool, and they should have known. He was Ufezel'a Raem il-Enhlei, named for his father, and his father's father before him. He had done much for his tribe, led them in times of uncertainty, and secured their place within the Sultanate which cared for Mother Irkhay'i. Perhaps that was the source of their hatred. They had no idea the future that was within their grasp if they would only follow the Sultan into the stars. The splendor of Mother Irkhay'i could not be spread through idleness, only through action. He brought his people to the Sultan himself, to the source of their future. He took the name Klein among outsiders, shaming himself and only himself in the hopes that he might serve as the bridge between his people and their destiny in that way.

It did nothing. The tribe became hostile, not openly of course, for that would dishonor them moreso than it would he. But it was clear, through their avoidance of eye contact, of the slow but sure end of visits to his clinic, and, ultimately, in his assignment "through lottery" (certainly a lie) as the host of the Class Card, of the Spirit of the Great Ancestor, of the King of Kings Ozymandias. It was "the greatest honor," in their words, but he knew all too well it was a condemnation.

He had been cast out, excommunicated. In this burden he had been cursed to go forth and conquer in the name of his people, of a people who did not want him.
"We both know your parents will be here soon, Seinfred. Would you mind not breaking out this time?"

"I can't really make any promises, chief. I'm pretty hard to keep in, ya know?" Ignoring the difficulty presented by her hands currently being held together, she flexed, showing off her astounding biceps. The sound of an iron gate slamming shut echoed through the room, enough to make even the hardened soul that now stood alone, and still flexing, wince. She attempted to fix her hat, but between the wild mane of red hair and the electromagnetic cuffs it ended up just falling to floor. Huffing and blowing a stray strand of hair out of her face, she frowned when it ended up right back in front of her face. This goddamn thing never moves... Sighing, the girl decided to lie down and stare at the ceiling for a while. What would mom think?

"What'd you do this time, Soiree? Another break-in? More fighting? Both? I can't even say I'm surprised." Yeah, that sounded about right for ol' mom. Then she'd sigh, take a sip of tea that was mostly honey in practice, and give her a little smile that said, Well, at least you did it well. Try not to get caught again though. Must've been that jungle upbringing or something. She hadn't heard much about mom's birthplace other than that it was some jungle oasis on a desert planet and that dad had been, in mom's words, "astounded by my beauty and the fact that I could carry him on one shoulder." Apparently everyone was like her there though, and that sounded cool. Soiree just wished she'd gotten the compound eyes, they looked rad. Oh, and the white hair. Really wished she'd gotten that instead of dad's red.

What about dad though? "Soiree, you've disrespected the Seinfred name again you know. I have no doubt that your mother finds this highly amusing, but you and I both know that both she and you are already looked down on in the courts. I would ask that you, please, for your own sake, put an end to this. I am not requiring you become a typical lady and engage in those trappings. Something tells me your mother's blood would keep you from taking well to it, besides. He'd give her a smile too, and it'd be genuine, she knew that. But even when he was being nice, she couldn't relate. He was Lord Alexander Seinfred, after all, and even if she was his eldest child, mom was just a concubine.

And who was she? Lady Soiree Sigamni Seinfred? What a stupid name that was, and mom and dad both knew it. Neither of them really wanted her to have an alliterative name, but they were adamant on Soiree and Sigamni, so she kind of got screwed over there. Or was she just the petty crook Soiree? She wasn't sure. Ah well, only one way to find out, really. Picking up her cap and carefully placing it back on her head, though a bit askew due to her hands being stuck together, Soiree did a quick stretch and started pressing against the wall. Give it a few minutes...

Sure enough, within 5 minutes the wall burst outward, and Soiree, still with her hands bound, started walking. Where she was headed, she really didn't know, but that was okay in her book. See? Told you I was hard to keep in.
37. See
sometimes you go "hey what if these two had a kid"

sometimes you pursue this train of thought way further than you meant to
Loading...
    Her name was Amelia Jameson. She was a shorter girl, her hair a shade of brown that reminded me of one of those cups of coffee you see in commercials, but never in real life. It went down to around her knees, way too long to be sensible, but not quite long enough to be off-putting, and just long enough to really catch the eye. She was a pretty girl all around. Her face had a gentleness to it you didn't see in a lot of other girls, and her eyes always seemed to convey a purer smile than any words could describe. The curves of her body, much as I would have loved to describe them, are not something with which I am especially familiar. I could never describe how I feel about her, but even so I try to do my best. I love her more than anything.

    But, of course, she doesn't feel the same at all.

    Why is that? It's not hard to explain, really. She just has someone else. We're just friends, great friends even, there's no doubt about that. Every day we talk about something new, whether it's TV or movies or books or whatever, and it goes for hours at a time. But the simple fact of the matter is that I'm not the kind of man Amelia would ever want to be with, I don't think. She's cheerful, outgoing, and popular. Not in the superficial sense, but in the most genuine way, where everyone legitimately enjoys her company. Compare that to me, some loser who spends his days reading the latest pulp fantasy schlock in the English classroom, and you've got to wonder why I even try.

    I guess it's because I don't have much else to do, really. I have a few friends, sure. Well, not really a "few" per se. I've got one or two. There's Scott O'Gail of course. We met during our freshman year in math class. I'm not sure what even brought us together. Something to do with the teacher assigning us to the same group or something? It's been two years, you'll have to forgive me for forgetting. Anyway, the other guy is Kyle Graves. Real cool name, real cool guy. We share a few of the same interests, he's always willing to listen to me ramble on about what Garron the Highland Chief did in the last book. He's also Amelia's boyfriend, so that's cool. I see him literally every day on the walk to and from school, generally I just want a car to hit me whenever we're talking.

    He knows how I feel about Amelia. Hell, I've been interested in her longer than he has. But I never bothered to ask her out. Call it fear or apprehension or just a gut instinct that she'd say no, but I just didn't feel like it was worth risking our comfortable little friendship. So when Kyle mentioned he wanted to, and even asked me if I was cool with it, who was I to say no?

    She was happier this way, and really, how could I even justify being angry about it?
36. Precious
honestly I don't know what this is

I felt like attempting something different, I guess the main goal was just seeing if I could establish a scenario

maybe I'll come back to these characters at some point
Loading...
William Reinfleche was many, many things. The once-noble son of the Reinfleche family. The self-styled guardian of the Faron Woods. The former husband of Ilyana Reinfleche. He was a warrior, a hero, a lech, an adulterer, a liar, and a traitor. But what was he now? Now, he was a general of order. A man of the law. A husband to another. He was Verrater, and he knew not why he had done much of what he did.

He rode home tiredly, trying his very best not to think on the losses he had suffered today. Those damned rebels were always one step ahead of him. He wished it would end, wished things could be simpler. He wished, above all, for a simpler time. His thoughts drifted to his old love. Ilyana had been perfect for him. She had always loved him, cared for him, done her very best for him. And he had betrayed her, in what he could only describe as a fit of childish passion, with a girl who had scarcely entered into womanhood, a girl he had barely known. It was his own fault. It had always been his own fault. He shook his head, trying his best to think of other things. To his wife, to the very girl he had turned to. To Rosaline.

He thought about the curve of her hips, the faintest smile on her face whenever he looked to her, to her hair and to her eyes, that piercing emerald that had always entranced him, even that first time he... No, he could not think of those times. He refocused yet again. He thought about her, about their life together now, about the present and about all the things they had done together. They were two of the generals of Oberste. They were to be feared, respected, and they were always a pair. Nothing could or would separate them. Not weakness, not combat, not anything. He had failed the first woman he loved, torn her heart asunder. He would not allow any harm to be brought to Rosaline. Not by himself, not by their foes, not by anything.

Glancing upward, he realized he should have been paying attention. He could have died with his mind so focused on trivialities- No, she was not a triviality. But even so, now was not the time for such thoughts. He focused, and sensed the faintest hint of a presence he knew all too well. One he all at once longed for and dreaded. One he both hated and loved. It had led him to destroy all he had known and loved, and it had comforted him in the aftermath. He surveyed his surroundings, and called out, "Zweite. Are you around?"
##. Ancient Interlude
Literally not a single person saw this coming, not even me

Happy birthday to TheGamerofKuns you total dweeb, I hope this brings you fond memories of the wonderful atrocity that led us to meet.
Loading...
I hope everyone I know is ready for a landslide of socially unacceptable words

not that many people interact with me here anyway lmao

Communism:
Immoral by its very nature when enforced, too reliant on good nature when voluntary. It's stupid and we know that, there's not anything new here.
Socialism: In the words of a professor who grew up in the Soviet Union, a man I have great respect for, "These socialists in American politics are just Marxists, they don't look to history like they should be doing. They are ignorant and optimistic." Socialism is just communism-lite, and I don't mean that in any joking manner.
Capitalism: By the very nature of its original intent, capitalism is an apolitical system. It's an economic system, and what you do with that is where the politics come into play. Laissez-faire absolute free markets are objectively the best system, as they allow the citizenry to decide with their wallets what to support, but modern globalism and cheapening of labor and goods have made it an impossible dream and a relic of a simpler time. Antitrust measures are the only way to keep every industry from ending up more or less in a complete monopoly.
*Corporatism/Crony Capitalism: Literal cancer, lobbying is the worst thing on this Earth.
Liberalism: Classical liberalism is fine, and once upon a time I was way into it, but on some level it too relies too much on a goodness of human nature and an inherent equal value of all humans just for being. I have no issue with it morally, but it's not really for me. Neoliberalism, however, is a blight on society. It isn't about egalitarianism or pulling people up, it's about recompense for perceived slights and dragging others down. For all my joking about "it's cancer," I legitimately believe that the neoliberal establishment is one of the worst things in America today. It is more divisive than any rhetoric spread by Trump, regardless of what the media will tell you. "You're a white male," indeed.
Conservatism: Same issue as above. Classical conservatism is something I agree with 100%, not that social change is bad, but that social change should be organic and occur naturally, rather than being forced or revolutionary. Revolution only breeds hostility from those who weren't part of said revolution. That said, I don't think this is practical or applicable in modern America, because the two party system means any change is considered revolutionary and inorganic by the other side. Neoconservatism is pointless but I generally agree with the economic aspects at least. The religious portion is retarded.
Libertarianism: Strictly the most moral form of governance one can have, it will never work any more than communism. It's too reliant on Kantian belief that had been more or less demonstrated categorically false. It only works if you take a view of personal accountability that even Rand would find questionable.
Monarchism: To be blunt, this is where I stand at this point. Is it the ideal moral good? No. Is it perfect? No. However, what it does do is keep the unwashed and unqualified masses out of politics. The common man has no interest in the actual minutiae of politics or the stances of candidates, and telling them it's their "duty" to participate in the political process just leads to what we have now. Of course, the value of monarchy depends on a) the monarch, and b) the systems that keep him in check. Consider England after the Magna Carta. It worked well, and the issues that struck them most greatly can generally not be attributed to the throne proper. A strong aristocracy can keep a king from doing anything stupid, and a strong king can keep an overconfident aristocrat from rebelling. Speaking of which...
Aristocracy: As understood in the modern sense, it's just monarchy without any common ground to keep said aristocrats in check. But then, as understood in the modern sense it's just a synonym for plutocracy, so I mean, see above on the unwashed masses. As originally conceived by the Greeks, we see effectively the ideal monarchy in action, one leader chosen by the best people in action. However, see communism, libertarianism, and anarchy for "things that only work in theory." It does generally descend into plutocracy without strong checks.
Dictatorship: What kind? Fascism? That works. I don't have much else to say on the matter. See above for my opinion on keeping the unwashed masses out of politics. It's nationalist and it enforces a strong national identity, caring for its own first. I don't have much issue with it, even if it is a dirty word. I used to fit in here too.
Anarchism: Theoretically the moral ideal, it doesn't work and it never will. We all know that.
Objectivism: It's just existentialism applied politically. I've already read Heidegger and I didn't agree with him either. Interesting though, and I do appreciate the power of the self presented. Nietzsche was a bit more uplifting though.
Secular Humanism: I think intelligent people are capable of being moral without religion. Too lenient though. Spare the rod, spoil the child, etc. It's like weak parenting in political form.
Theocracy: Depends on the religion. Morally objectionable, but see monarchism and dictatorship for a more practical consideration. It lacks checks on power like those do though, so it's generally a resounding "please no."
  • Listening to: Initial D Super Eurobeat Mix (NTD)
  • Reading: Ideas, Interests, and American Trade Policy
  • Watching: Seinfeld
  • Playing: I wish
  • Eating: Nothing
  • Drinking: Irish breakfast tea

deviantID

RawkHawkFTW's Profile Picture
RawkHawkFTW
Navarre
Artist | Hobbyist | Varied
United States
I'm by no means talented. My art is pretty terrible, which I freely admit, and while I would love nothing more than to improve, the sad truth is that I just don't have the time these days.

A bit about me:
I'm a college student, majoring in Multidisciplinary History with a focus on Political Science. I'm hoping to get into grad school and work as a historian, but that's unlikely.
Interests

Friends

Comments


Add a Comment:
 
:iconbuddingcreator:
BuddingCreator Featured By Owner Oct 7, 2016
Thank you for the watch! I'm glad I'll still have your support in the future. ^-^
Reply
:iconrawkhawkftw:
RawkHawkFTW Featured By Owner Oct 7, 2016  Hobbyist General Artist
Of course! I'd hate to miss out on it.
Reply
:iconrobotcatart:
RobotCatArt Featured By Owner Mar 23, 2016  Hobbyist Digital Artist
50 Watcher Milestone! Chibi Neko Noire 2P Thank U by RobotCatArt
Reply
:iconmasa1989:
Masa1989 Featured By Owner Mar 22, 2016
Thank you for the watch :D
Reply
Hidden by Commenter
:iconrawkhawkftw:
RawkHawkFTW Featured By Owner Jun 4, 2015  Hobbyist General Artist
Thank you for bringing this masterpiece to my attention.
Reply
:iconroyazali:
Royazali Featured By Owner May 31, 2014
I think it's about time you updated your Pairing Updates, don't you? XD
Reply
:iconrawkhawkftw:
RawkHawkFTW Featured By Owner Jun 1, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
Fiiiiiiiiiiiiine
Reply
:iconroyazali:
Royazali Featured By Owner Jun 1, 2014
Yaaay!! ^w^
Reply
Add a Comment: