I am Andrew Ryan, and I'm here to ask you a question. Is a man not entitled to the sweat of his brow? 'No!' says the man in Washington, 'It belongs to the poor.' 'No!' says the man in the Vatican, 'It belongs to God.' 'No!' says the man in Moscow, 'It belongs to everyone.' I rejected those answers; instead, I chose something different. I chose the impossible. I chose... Rapture, a city where the artist would not fear the censor, where the scientist would not be bound by petty morality, Where the great would not be constrained by the small! And with the sweat of your brow, Rapture can become your city as well.

5/19/2011 3:20:41 PM

Let's go golfing

5/19/2011 3:21:45 PM

iswydt

5/19/2011 3:25:23 PM

5/19/2011 3:36:31 PM

5/19/2011 3:48:31 PM

What is the greatest lie every created? What is the most vicious obscenity ever perpetrated on mankind? Slavery? The Holocaust? Dictatorship? No. It's the tool with which all that wickedness is built: TWW.

Whenever anyone wants others to do their work, they call upon TWW. Never mind your own needs, they say, think of the needs of... of whoever. The state. The poor. Of the army, of the king, of God! The list goes on and on. How many catastrophes were launched with the words "consider yourself officially called out"? It's the "chit-chat" crowd who light the torch of destruction. It is this great inversion, this ancient lie, which has chained humanity to an endless cycle of guilt and failure. My journey to The Lounge was my second exodus.

In 2001, I fled an internet that had traded in despotism for insanity. The Digital revolution simply traded one lie for another. Instead of one man, the qntmfred, owning the work of all the people, *all* the people owned the work of all of the people. So, I came to Chit-chat: where a man could own his own work, where a man could benefit from the brilliance of his own mind, the strength of his own muscles, the knowledge of outside sales. I had thought I had left the parasites of 4chan behind me. I had thought I had left the hipster altruists to their collective farms and their five-year plans. But as the Lolcat fools threw themselves on Hitler's sword "for the lulz", the Pack drank deeper and deeper of the Trollbait poison, and got louder like "OOOOOOOOooooOOOOOO."

And so, I asked myself: in what board was there a place for men like me - men who refused to say "yes" to the trolls and the doubters, men who believed that work was sacred and property rights inviolate. And then one day, the happy answer came to me, my friends: there was *no* board for people like me! And *that* was the moment I decided... to just live.

5/19/2011 4:16:09 PM

and then we all start jumpin up and down and going Ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo PACK PACK POWER PACK oOOOOOOooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

5/19/2011 4:18:25 PM

^^

effort itt

5/19/2011 4:21:58 PM

^

I smell a meme

5/19/2011 4:27:48 PM

I couldn't decide who to replace Hitler with.

5/20/2011 9:45:35 AM