To my dear remote viewers;

On Sunday, April 14th, 2024, I, your host Poolhouse aka DJ POOLHOUSE aka poolhouse the elder, finally snapped.

To be clear, it was a long time building.

I am not going to link the account here, but you can find it if you do some digging on the o.g. timeline of mine.

It is not an exagerration to say this person made dozens of posts about me over the course of 5 weeks, which I had tried to ignore or only engage with in good humor, but it did not suffice. My conleftist deranged PR guy from hell would not relent. The poolhouse-hate threads kept a threading.

Lies upon lies were heaped on my pristine brand: that I was an “op,” that I was somehow in league with perhaps my greatest known nemesis, that I was a “rich kid” from L.A., vague allegations that I was somehow misrepresenting who I am, accusations of witchcraft (I do not “jack off” onto “runes”), something called neoreactionary accelerationist Ziofascism, and most disgusting of all–Discordianism.

There is no need for me to address any of this, per se. But as I note in the monologue (which was recorded after a brief freak out when I told this hoaxer–for I do not believe this account is what it purports to be in any way–to keep my name out of his posts, and he promptly went full DARVO and accused me, the targeted individual, of “playing the victim.”) there is something repugnant about an individual literally making up lies (this hoaxer has admitted he doesn’t care about facts) about me and my friends for days and days on end that just rubbed me the wrong fucking way.

In the process, my inner Tucker Carlson was unleashed, and I delivered this masterful monologue to the acclaim and delight of hundreds.

For the record, please enjoy this media market critique, file under: conspiratard leftism vs pro-cosmic anti-leftism

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