Fuck this I'm falling for the meme

[Anonymous No.17245622]

Aight so what should I start out with when trying to comprehend Nick Land? For starters, I am more or less interested with CCRU era Land than Facebook era Land. I read Fisher's "Terminator vs Avatar" and I have a lot of Marx under my belt. I briefly took a peek at Anti-Oedipus (planning to read more in depth) but I know I'll prob need more than that.
Is there a shit ton of Kant involved? The same for Nietzsche? I generally am clueless on where to start.

[Anonymous No.17245644]

>>17245622
Nietzsche, then Deleuze, then Land.

[Anonymous No.17245655]

>>17245622
>Terminator vs Avatar
cringed irl

[Anonymous No.17245669]

>>17245622
>His writings are "theory-fictions", a genre created by the philosopher Jean Baudrillard.[3] A cofounder of the 1990s collective Cybernetic Culture Research Unit (CCRU), his work has been tied to the development of accelerationism and speculative realism.[4][5][6]

>Land is also known, along with fellow neo-reactionary thinker Curtis Yarvin, for developing in his latter works the anti-egalitarian and anti-democratic ideas behind neo-reaction and the Dark Enlightenment. His later work has become increasingly focused on advocating for scientific racism and eugenics, or what he calls "hyper-racism."

[Anonymous No.17245675]

>>17245669
>During his time at Warwick, Land participated in Virtual Futures, a series of cyber-culture conferences. Virtual Futures 96 was advertised as “an anti-disciplinary event” and “a conference in the post-humanities”. One session involved Nick Land “lying on the ground, croaking into a mic”, recalls Robin Mackay, while Mackay played jungle records in the background."

[Tranny's Bane No.17245952]

>>17245622
Take the HRT.
Read the box
Wait for dick to fall off

[Anonymous No.17245993]

Noted

[Anonymous No.17245994]

d&g
baudrillard

[Anonymous No.17245998]

"I wiped the blade against my jeans and walked into the bar. It was mid-afternoon, very hot and still. The bar was deserted. I ordered a whiskey. The barman looked at the blood and asked:

‘God?’

‘Yeah.’

‘S’pose it’s time someone finished that hypocritical little punk, always bragging about his old man’s power…’

He smiled crookedly, insinuatingly, a slight nausea shuddered through me. I replied weakly:

‘It was kind of sick, he didn’t fight back or anything, just kept trying to touch me and shit, like one of those dogs that try to fuck your leg. Something in me snapped, the whingeing had ground me down too low. I really hated that sanctimonious little creep.’

‘So you snuffed him?’

‘Yeah, I’ve killed him, knifed the life out of him, once I started I got frenzied, it was an ecstasy, I never knew I could hate so much.’

I felt very calm, slightly light-headed. The whisky tasted good, vaporizing in my throat. We were silent for a few moments. The barman looked at me levelly, the edge of his eyes twitching slightly with anxiety:

There’ll be trouble though, don’tcha think?’

‘I don’t give a shit, the threats are all used up, I just don’t give a shit.’

‘You know what they say about his old man? Ruthless bastard they say. Cruel…’

‘I just hope I’ve hurt him, if he even exists.’

‘Woulden wanna cross him merself,’ he muttered.

I wanted to say ‘yeah, well that’s where we differ’, but the energy for it wasn’t there. The fan rotated languidly, casting spidery shadows across the room. We sat in silence a little longer. The barman broke first:

‘So God’s dead?’

‘If that’s who he was. That fucking kid lied all the time. I just hope it’s true this time.’

The barman worked at one of his teeth with his tongue, uneasily:

‘It’s kindova big crime though, isn’t it? You know how it is, when one of the cops goes down and everything’s dropped ’til they find the guy who did it. I mean, you’re not just breaking a law, your breaking LAW.’

I scraped my finger along my jeans, and suspended it over the bar, so that a thick clot of blood fell down into my whisky, and dissolved. I smiled:

‘Maybe it’s a big crime,’ I mused vaguely ‘but maybe it’s nothing at all…’ ‘…and we have killed him’ writes Nietzsche, but—destituted of community—I crave a little time with him on my own.

In perfect communion I lick the dagger foamed with God’s blood."

- Nick Land

I started here.

So Based.