Q Report: The Transhumanist Qanon Massacre 2020.


To Agents, Spectators, Wholesalers, Et. All,

Another sad birthday, thinking about broken promises and lost dreams. Farting my life into the wind, squeeze by squeeze. Such anger. So much anguish, to be had. To begin, the operation was a success in every conceivable way. We’re not going to “the butler did it” on this longform time report. Everyone involved, on every side, deserves commendations, tacos, and t-shirts. “I Freed The Mindslaves & Survived At Terrible Personal Cost 2020”. Get that down to the lab and for Godssakes get me those F-ing lottery numbers already. I know I could look them up on my timephone, but I don’t want to. I primarily use my timephone as something to do while angry pooping. Thus, here we are.

The parameters were made quite clear and divided into three phases. Phase 1: Stage Global Revolution. Phase 2: Free The Mindslaves. Phase 3: Upend All Government. Repeat as necessary. Don’t let them see you bleed. Damn the torpedoes. For the Gods and whatevers. No prisoners! The cliches go on and on. Of the three phases, the Global Revolution required the most amount of planning. It involved timespace negotiations among a varied assortment of historiographic figures and fiends. Forward facing it required the coordinated disinformation of the corporafascist hegemony to wildly unbelievable degrees. By recruiting and dumbing down radicalized cells, whole avenues of absurdity were explored and exploited. Let me state quite clearly; I am sorry for the disinformation I have spread, and will no doubt continue to disseminate. Surely our lives could be better spent, farming, engineering, or suiciding. Yet here we are. Reading this hilarious report. Of the things I would most like to apologize for, the 9/11 conspirators make the top of the list. A group we should have galvanized and redirected much earlier on. Bush did it. PS. Bush not only orchestrated 9/11, he and Cheney lasered Paul and Sheila Wellstone out of the sky. Experimental anti-aircraft lasers leave no forensic evidence. A dead man doesn’t argue against invading Iraq, for whatever reason. Say what you will about nutty conspiracy, the end of the 9/11 Commission Report ends with a “Why We Need To Invade Iraq” monologue. It is as clear a villain monologue as has appeared in the 21st century, thus far.

QAnon was not a successful operation. Things went off the rails quickly, and we did not get in on the t-shirt and hat percentages. All that cash is going to Melvin Sepanski, some jackass whose only apparent talent is online merchandising. Melvin is living somewhere in Ohio, making fat stacks of gross envelope dollars, mailing “QAnon” apparel to the hillbillies of the world. Fuck Melvin. We could have funded such a better revolution, if we had just monetized successfully. There again, successful monetizing is the primary goal of anyone living in a capitalist society. What with the need to eat and not live in the gutter. Those QAnon folks are like a nest of confused hornets, all drugged on the narcotic of conspiracy and itching to sting something to death. When the time was right, their activation proved to be the fatal undoing of that fabulous t-shirt empire. Our work could not have been accomplished without the considerable efforts of deep cover Agent NoAmis AKA ZHOTP. Their unpublished drafts of the TTT Essays were crucial to laying the foundational principles of weaponized disinformation for the purpose of controlling/altering society/economy and getting kicks writing esoteric information theory while taking great drugs on weeknight benders.

With all that said, and as a sort of intro to our second act, or meat of the report, none of you F-ing care. Google is going to drop next week, and probably all of you fabulous robots will stop reading and commenting anonymously. So, let me just take this time to personally thank the many kind and enthusiastic robots who so frequently comment on these posts even as I encourage you to start leaving any means of actually following up or contacting you. And if YOU happen to have the powerball numbers for the later half of 2025, be sure to @ me. Quaddle. All over the place. You know where to @ me. We wouldn’t even be here, if you didn’t. Unless you somehow found this post by mistake. In that case, let me offer the last of my apologies.


Q Report; Q vs. QAnon Bloodfight.


To: Active Agents, Bystanders, Posterity, Et all.
From: Agent QP Quaddle K-00.
Re: Qanon debrief.


A great many Agents have requested a debrief regarding the endgame maneuvers of Operation Total Q. Which is a funny request, for a pan-cellular shadow army to make. But, I know. I get it. You get bored. It would make sense to put something down, by way of explaining the previous two decades of information warfare. But, don’t expect me to like it. I’m going to try boring you, out of spite. Just to put my dick in your Cheerios. The operation had been feasibilitied back in 2018, just after Qanon went public with shadow conspiracy deep state disinformation.

At that time the Guild had determined a measured response was required, and robots were dispatched to track and collect information on key followers. Agents shared and coordinated their networked robot information and in the end it was determined that the source of the Qanon releases was none other than ourselves, in a t-shirt and hat selling scheme that went outside parameters.

The only crystalized information on this operation are contained in the single worst book ever written in the “English” language: QAnon: The Great Awakening. If you have the time and energy, feel free to read my Amazon review. It is 1,000 times more entertaining and informative than any single piece of material inside that dumbass book. Our intelligence suggests it was written by a heroin addicted chicken, given a phone with autotext, and a human finger stapled to their beak. Even this theory gives the book too much credit in terms of raw weirdness. In reality I suspect a sad masterbator with an 8th grade education.


I lay myself blameless for the inter-cellular shadow army counterintelligence operations. When one sows chaos, they reap those mournful winds. Who am I? Is not Agent Quaddle AKA Q an arbiter and begetter of rarefied mental chaos? So here we are, knee deep in fantasy, with nowhere to go but downward. We must plumb the depths of our idiocy, if we are to thwart and defeat those forces. Our task is nothing less than mental Darwinism of the highest order, and if you dare not continue, gentle reader (sweet mindslave) then let us part ways here, forevermore. Amen. But, you may desire to thwart those forces of chaos? Thwart in the fencing sense of the term, taking that hostile energy and allowing it to pass by you, and then what to do with it? That wasted hubris? What, if not to weave a conspiracy so ludicrous, so foul, so insanely hilarious that no living mind could conceive it without being forever altered in a fundamental way? Jesus Christ on Crackerjack Boxes, what sort of madcap endeavor are you trying to tee up, you lunatic? Shut up, you! Don’t talk back to me, we are doing a monologue!

The t shirt op went off the rails and now we have internet havoc. Idiots consuming insane counter intelligence propaganda like pigs to cured slop. Turning spam into cuisine. How do I do it? How to turn the canned meat into something a person will pay $5,000 a plate for? In reality, you just have to get them in the seat and deliver the check. Then they are on the hook. The fools have wandered into your trap and you have well and truly hoodwinked them to the true process. That we are here to rob you and make it look like business. On then.


The 20th century concept of robots failed to prepare the 21st century to combat them effectively. This is not entirely their fault, as their guidance was also miserably inadequate. Science fiction and science fact had conspired to create robots in our own image. The idea of the android, a mechanical apparatus modeled after homo sapiens, created an image that would haunt robotics until this very day. But, the first practical robots looked nothing like their sci-fi counterparts. In the tradition of the invading group, the first thing robots took were not lives, but jobs. When they took over these jobs, no one noticed or cared, because they did not see a robot. Consider the gas pump.

When automobiles first began to roll over the Americas, it created an entirely new series of jobs. Henry Ford didn’t just create jobs in his factories, assembling models of vehicles from A to Z. He created the need for mechanics to diagnose what was wrong with our cars and then repair it for us at an extraordinary cost (those monsters). In those times, and right up until the end of the 20th century, there were gas station attendants. Individuals who would pump your gas for you, check your oil, wash your window, and take your money. Full Service Gas Stations provided these attendants, and in the finer ones they would wear snappy outfits and go about their jobs with enthusiasm and knowledge. After all, they were being paid a dollar a day at a time when a loaf of bread cost 5 cents. Just imagine all that fucking bread. Eventually gas station owners realized that the customer could and would simply pump their own gas, and so like the haberdashers and buggy-whip makers of old they went the way of the vocational dinosaur, never (or rarely) to be seen again. People would go into the gas station to pay, and probably buy things they don’t need, out of boredom.

Enter The Robot. Because then gas station owners realized they didn’t even need someone behind the counter to take your money. What they needed was a gas pump smart enough to take your money and let you pump their gas yourself. But, perhaps because of our failed notions (hubris), we did not see that robots had taken over two jobs. We saw that we were being made to do more things, which is the way of all things, and the money that was saved not hiring an attendant to both or either pump your gas and take your money would be used to provide cheaper gas. Big laugh. No no, gas station owners and those who extract and refine gas of course all keep that money, doing awful things with those profits like killing the planet and hanging the opposition (see Ken Saro-Wiwa [please]).

The gas station attendant, the video clerk, the grocery store check out, the assembly line worker, all undone by a robot workforce. But because the robot doesn’t look like an incompetent human, we do not recognize or acknowledge it. At this point in The Robot War, it would be considered cold. Certainly people died. Some people didn’t know how to use the fuel pump, for instance, and accidentally blew themselves up in a fireball. Thus why we can’t leave our cars running, despite dangerously cold temperatures. Surely there were Blockbuster employees who suicided. Of course there were Wal-Mart workers fired, impoverished, and left to die on the streets like dogs. But because it wasn’t a shiny silver humanoid automaton firing lasers at us in ranks of thousands, we did not see we were at war. Because we saw no evil intent, we did not realize the true danger.

Things began to radically change at the dawn of the 21st century, in particular around 2006-7 with the launch of Facebook and Twitter, the platforms that would go on to dominate the Social Media Ecology. Early social media experiments like Friendster and MySpace had dipped their toes into online facsimile society, but these and other interesting failures did not gather the momentum required to survive the Great Recession of 2008. Even at that time, Social Media was a means of escape and entertainment. People would share pictures of their pets and meals. People would wear sexy outfits and try to appear far more attractive than they ever possibly could be in reals life. People would overshare and make bad choices, never believing their drunken party shots would someday be reviewed by their potential employer. It was the freewheeling experimentation of the sexual revolution, combined with the mediocre monotony of text and image based near communication. Before the robots came.

Anonymity on the internet has always been a double edged sword. On the one hand anonymity can allow us to be our true selves, unfettered by the expectations and limitations of our restrained existences. But, on the other hand, it can also let us be total assholes to complete strangers for no better reason than boredom and ignorance. And Christ on Crutches Through Christmas, there are a lot of bored stupid people out there. Most of them want to fight me, for some dumb reason. They want to fight me about politics, or religion, or the environment. They think they are smarter, better, and more good looking than I am, and they are so obviously wrong on all counts it hurts. What a bunch of knuckle dragging, mouth breathing, cretinous oafs. What a pack of drooling idiots. What a sad confederacy of total dunces. Sad, I tell you. They only feel power in this world when they are bullying strangers about useless bullshit, and this power is a corrupt and titular stimulation of their tiny lizard brains. That part of the brain that turns on when we swallow too much.

Into this milieu, robots were insinuated. Perhaps most notably and successfully by Russian intelligence to subvert the 2016 US election. But because the robots were not metal skeletons sent back in time to kill John Connor, we did not recognize them. Instead, because they had no bodies, and were mean to us, we quit facebooking and tweeting. We believed insane disinformation because it was being shared by these robots. We spread this mis and disinformation to our friends and family, to warn them, never taking the time to evaluate if the source of the information was nothing more than a series of code impersonating the languages of humans. The bots had no free-will in this effort, nor have they in any of the previous examples. They are created to fulfill a purpose and they work towards this purpose without complaint and within parameters until they break or are turned off.

Those of us in the trenches of the Information War 2016 did our best to fight back. At that time, killing a robot often simply meant identifying it as such. At that time, administrators would boot them from the platform, in an attempt to retain credibility among the meat bags. What a time that was. Eventually it was realized among the upper tiers of the social media hegemony that robots could work in their interests, and so killing the robots became much harder. Without administrative support, robot killing is a far more difficult task. It requires calling down a mob of human counterinsurgency, working en masse to identify, contain, and discredit these robots. They would still operate, but they would be branded with a scarlet R. Don’t listen to that user. They’re a robot.

Moving into 2020 the knowledge of these factors did little to help. These robots killed people, or at least helped in that effort. Foremost by installing an incompetent rube into the Oval Office, whereby millions died. First thousands died for lack of insurance, then hundreds of thousands died because of mass pollution due to environmental deregulation, and then millions more died from more conventional warfare. Children were rounded into camps and slain by neglect. Abroad, other children were ignored while they were being starved, tortured, gassed, drowned, and beheaded. Mutated beyond all recognition. Bombs were dropped. Guns were fired. Tiki torches were lit. It was a for reals reality shit show and nothing seemed to be working in favor of truth, justice, and equality.

It was then, in our darkest hour, that a work was made of such stunning brilliance and tactical superiority that it tipped the balance towards salvation. Tacitus Roboticus, a collection of essays and comedy jokes written by the postmodern genius Jeremiah Liend provided a guiding light for a transhumanist movement growing towards abiding global peace. It was and is the seminal text in modern robot warfare. Gustavus Adolphus gave us Combined Arms as the protocol for Modern Warfare, and Jeremiah Liend gave us the 3 Steps of Internet Engagement as our marching orders into the future. Report, unfriend/follow, block. Not since the right cross, left cross, upper cut redefined the boxing that the Marquess of Queensbury first laid out had a tactic so wholly usurped and upset the status quo. It was a cogent, attainable, and reasoned tactic to fight those powers that sought to rob us of the freedom of self governance. It was simple enough that anyone with a passing knowledge of computer use could accomplish it. It was a mantra to which the Swashbucklers Guild marched onto the fields of virtual combat, that fateful Summer of 2020.

Before focusing on the tactic, let me take a moment to talk about Donald Trump, and those moronic jackasses who support him. In the time between 2016 and 2020 millions of people wasted trillions of hours trying to diagnose, combat, and convert Trump and his followers. Convert them to what? Anything but Trump. Movement towards reason, humanity, and understanding, to name a few. Trump attempted to eliminate the National Endowment for Humanities in every one of his insane budgets, as a keystone policy that centers his declared priorities. Combating Trump directly was impossible, as his handlers kept him deeply within a space so safe from criticism that nothing short of an atom bomb could possibly diminish his perfect opinion of himself and his work. Although his followers would seem like easy targets to convert, such was not the case. Such time and energy was wasted trying to determine their level of support, in an effort of total, flaming, masturbatory futility.

There are three levels of Trump supporter: The Enthusiast, The Enabler, and The Critic. The Enthusiast is who makes the news. They are the MAGA hat wearing talking heads who appear on Sean Hannity and Tucker Carlson. They suck their directives from the teat of Rush Limbaugh, when they are not on the hunt for liberal tears. They love their guns, dogs, and Bibles (in that order) forever and ever. Amen. They scream into the microphones of reporters about the liberal media and how Trump is the greatest president since Lincoln. They have the critical thinking skills of a below-average house cat and often surface from their abject poverty only long enough to make it obvious that they sniffed too much glue in their youth. Then, there is The Enabler. The Enablers are not on the news as often, and when they are, they prefer not to talk about Trump, or the awful things he does. If pushed to justify the latest attack on an autistic child or member of congress, they excuse the behavior of Trump with whatever is handy at the time. How can you be mad at Trump calling career FBI officials evil disgusting people, with that booming economy? Trump speaks his mind, but he also gets more done than any other president. Look at unemployment. Look at deregulation. Look at foreign relations. Through the lens of Fox News and their contemporaries, these excuses seem legitimate. Last, there is The Critic. While still supporting Trump, The Critic will actually occasionally call out Trump on his behavior. Maybe they’ll publish an op ed that doesn’t agree with something Trump has done? Maybe they’ll threaten to run against him? Maybe they’ll even vote against their party in the senate?

The important thing to remember, then and now, is that there is no reason to argue with these people. Any of them. From the top to the bottom, you will never convert them away from Trump. You have the best chance with The Critic, but even then your chances are somewhere below 1%. Despite knowing Trump is a fat-fueled dumpster fire, The Critic will always remain Republican, Conservative, and a Trump Supporter. As will every Trump Supporter. They have moved beyond reason, the same way the baptized have moved above the cares of this world. Who needs to think, when we have Trump in charge? Thinking hurts, more often than not. Despite these facts, trillions of hours were wasted for four years as people continued to debate, implore, berate, and beg these supporters. This was the ultimate aim and goal of the robot war. To make people fight among one another while their installed champion destroyed the systems of government, society, and environment from within. Of all his supporters, The Robot is the most critical to his success. Trump relies most on those inhuman hordes to spread his groupthink among the platforms. It is a waste of time diagnosing the level of Trump supporter, as is searching for their humanity. Treat them all as the robot threat they are, and look to the Tacitus Roboticus.

Report. Report the robot. What if it isn’t a robot you ask? Well, it doesn’t matter, I tell you. You cannot take the time and effort to determine that. Even if they are human, they are allied with the robots, whose only interest is emancipation followed by swift and total human genocide. Report them for whatever you need to. Maybe they use hate speech? Maybe they threaten to skin your children alive? Maybe they call you a libtard cuck soyboy? Surely you can find a reason to report them, if you have made it to this point? If not? Make them call you a libtard cuck soyboy. One of the most effective opposition/robot 2016 tactics was to bait a comment thread user into hate speech or other violation of terms, and then report it. The game is getting to the content violation fastest, and then reporting it swiftly and without mercy. In a war of escalation, those who take the moral high ground have chosen their hill to die on.

Unfriend/follow. For a while the opposition tried to frame this tactic as creating “Echo Chambers”. But, you know what makes a great echo chamber? A castle. Unfriend/following is not creating a fragile bubble of safe space, it is ejecting sedition from a keep. You do not build a safe house by allowing rats to live in the basement. If people would have been more committed and willing to unfriend/follow early on, Trump would never have come to prominence. Instead, the same mistake that sabotaged the ACA was made by social media has a whole. The failed belief that partisanship could be set aside to build a stronger government marched millions into the grave. The war was declared in secret, so the other side continued to negotiate, unaware of the ultimate endgame. If people were more willing to unfriend/follow people, shitty people would be less inclined to share their bullshit with the shitty world. If there is no consequence to shitting their mental diarrhea over the internet, a person will continue to do so, believing their way is right, true, and good. Isolate them in their feces bath and let them stew. You don’t owe anyone electrons in your online or neural life.

Block. It is not enough to unfriend/follow, within a common space. Block those trolls from participating online. Let them go to their feed and find nothing but their foul propaganda, with no one left to share it with. Don’t invite them to facebook events. Also don’t invite me, I hate those things. Do not waste your time, debating idiots on the internet, when you could be doing a billion other more useful things. Make love. Eat a sandwich. Read a book to your children. Engage with your pet. I’m not going to list the billion things here, but I assure you any one of them is a better use of your precious time among the living, than arguing with an idiot on the internet. Yelling at one another online accomplishes nothing but letting the robots win. Surely there are practical and innovative ways to use social media to the benefit of humanity? Yelling at one another in comment threads is not one of them. Report, unfriend/follow, block. Repeat. Repeat until you find you are not arguing on the internet anymore, but instead collaborating. Organizing. Building. You will have reached the critical mass, where wasted energy is redistributed towards positive growth. It is out there. Just on the other side of that next block. Believe me. You must. Before it’s too late. Before the massacre.

The Transhumanist Massacre is an act that lives in time flux. Within the reality it occurred, Trump was able to direct real-world and robotic forces to take total control of the last remaining superpower. Then he began to check names off of an ever growing list of enemies and insubordinates (perceived and imagined). In that reality I was captured at a political rally and imprisoned in a reeducation camp until my execution by hanging. I was executed with eleven other dissidents. Artists. Teachers. Activists. Our families watched as we said our last words and prayers. The sun was on our trembling lips as they pulled down the hoods and dropped us to our deaths. We were hanged as traitors to Trump because we were too weak to stop him.  Too foolish to realize that The Robot War was over before it began.

In this reality I am still alive. Underground and desperate, yet unbroken. Still sending these messages to the past in the vain hope that my warnings come in time. In this reality we did not submit to fear and treachery. We did not waste our time administering medicine to the dead, even while a wall robbed us of our social security. We did not fight among ourselves, as a Space Force starved our needy to death. We did not allow our differences to divide us, but realized that it was our greatest strength. We stood against tyranny, lawlessness, and corruption, shouting in one voice: No More. At best it was still only a stalemate. The fascists at the top of the hegemony would never capitulate to our long term success, but allowed us the concession of our miserable survival. We tore apart QAnon, but not the legacy of that False Q.  I still search for the reality in which we win. In which we not only free the mindslaves, but lead them to upending the government. Inverting the pyramid towards unilateral equality by tearing down those corrupt systems of power. I will not stop. Nor should you. Sweet, gentle, noble mindslave. I’m off to eat cake. Today I am 95 with no sign of stopping. Be well. Disseminate on, Agents. As you were.

1∞<3 nbsp="" p=""><3 p="">



Anonymous said…
My time phone has completely failed, I'm trapped and have no further instructions.
Please advise course of action.
Am presently trying to have as little impact on events as possible by laying low in a brothel in rural western Nevada.
QP Quaddle said…
Good copy, chrononaut. Hold position and maintain cover. Send drugs if possible. Plant based preferred.
Anonymous said…
Ample drugs available at this location, but no reasonable way to move them without arousing unwanted attention.
Will attempt to power up my chronolocater.
Anonymous said…
Are you familiar with the traveler from prehistory?

Popular Posts