Vote For The Worst Shitlib Archetype

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Jacked Asian

A legit jacked Asian (he looked Korean or possibly Jap) at the gym was comfortably knocking out sets of 225 lbs on the bench press when a nerd herd of willowy Asian males stumbled like a lost tourist group into the weight room. They promptly spied through extra slitty squints the muscular Jacked Asian doing his thing alone at the bench.

It was funny watching their reaction, as their eyes widened (imperceptibly) in wonder, gaping at this unusual specimen of Asian swoleness. They swirled around Jacked Asian muttering in their native bug-tongue, casting glances in his direction every so often, and seemed clearly impressed with the man and desperate to say something to him but for their insurmountable shyness. I’d guess by their body language they wanted to ask him how he got so yuge (left unsaid….”for an asian”).

Now there were plenty of jacked non-Asians in the gym at the time, some of them bigger. There were a couple of negronis and a handful of Whites with builds similar to Jacked Asian’s physique. But the worker drones didn’t see them; all they saw was Jacked Asian, defying stereotypes and radiating the pride of the Asian master race. To them, who cares that non-asian gym bros exist? The world stopped for that moment to prove there’s room for an asian gym blo.

There’s a term for the scene I just described. It’s an outdated term weighed down with historical baggage according to our kulture kkkommisars, but it still accurately describes a recess of our human psyche that will never be abolished by reeducation camp counselors:

Racial pride.

The lesson is this: We find soulful nourishment in the accomplishments of our racial kin, no matter how personally unknown to us or in what part of the world we find ourselves entangled. Racial pride is natural, and really unremarkable until recently, and it’s why we honor the achievements and glories of our racial ancestors, no matter how distantly related, and it’s why a dweebening of asian manlets felt their hearts soar at the sight of Jacked Asian. We can’t help ourselves, and that is why our quisling lessers have to spill so much verbal diarrhea trying to convince themselves they have the feeling under control.

Race matters. It won’t stop mattering, so we may as well start speaking honestly and truthfully about it.

PS I overheard a couple of possibly gay gym bros making snide remarks about a skinny gym newb putting up tiny weights on the bench. Bad form. Why mock someone who’s trying to turn he body around? I give a lot of shit to losers and degenerates who are on a quest to normalize and even glorify their loserdom and degeneracy, but I give nothing but support and love to those who try to better themselves. As it should be. So save your ridicule for the deserving and encourage the newbs breaking out of their blue pill prison. They could have just as easily stayed home and wanked it to tentacle porn, in the way that Kurt Eichenwald prefers to spend his downtime.

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Would Psychopaths Thrive In A Diversitopia?

Psychopathy and Diversity™: are the two like oil and water or match and fuel leak? The answer to this question isn’t so clear. There are two competing forces that complicate analysis.

1. Psychopaths exploit high trust societies, preying on dupes. Diversity erodes social trust and makes everyone warier of each other, reducing the number of dupes to scam.
2. Psychopaths are skilled at manipulating the natural antagonisms between people and groups for their personal benefit. Diversity increases the number of groups fighting for resources and representation and thus enlarges the field of play for psychopaths.

FYI I define Diversitopia in any Western nation as majority-minority White plus Other. The US is currently sitting at 63% White, and the true number is worse than that, because there’s a big uncounted demographic market of beaner illegals and a fertility bulge of minority births cresting on the horizon that dwarfs the White birth rate.

Psychopaths would have a rich vein of culture rot to excavate in a Diversitopia because there would be so many tribes to play off one another. But, psychos would have a counter-current to swim against in the form of society-wide lowered trust that would increase the difficulty of finding gullible marks. It’s hard to tease out which way the psycho winds would blow, but my impression is that they are currently thriving in the interregnum between wide-eyed Joke Whites still clinging to their pathological altruism and virtue sniveling and squinty Woke Whites casting suspicion in every direction. Soon, though, psychos may find it tough to extract any more nuggets of self-aggrandizement from a dying America.

PS It’s useful to distinguish generic psychopaths from ashkepaths. The latter is a supercharged subspecies of Genus Psycho and undoubtedly thrive in Diversitopias….at least until they’re ejected from their 6 gorillionth host nation. So if you’re waiting passively for Diversity™ to sufficiently crater trust levels in the body politic and deprive ashkepaths of their nutrition, you’ll wait a long time.

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This Is Why Libchicks HATE HATE HATE Trump

The topic of this post could easily bloom into an oceanic algae field of effortful analysis, but I intend to keep this particular foray succinct.

Libchicks HATE HATE HATE Meaty Intruder Trump because he is iconic maleness.

It’s Trump’s unapologetic masculinity — and by association the happy masculinity of his supporters — that gets under the speckled hides of the Femcunt Fuggernaut.

The general direction of Western Civ over the last decades has been away from masculinity and toward androgyny. Femininity is under attack as well, but so far has avoided the kind of vitriolic (((propaganda))) that’s been leveled against all forms and expressions and attitudes of masculinity.

Trump is a direct rebuke to the anti-masculinity and anti-male agenda. Precisely, the anti-White male agenda. He is the distillation in one man of everything that drives bitterbitches crazy with hatelust.

He speaks his mind.
He never grovels for approval.
He refuses to regurgitate the symbolic catchwords of feminist and antiracism cant.
He loves women with sexually explicit vigor and remorseless objectification.
He has a child with a much younger, beautiful model wife.
He has multiple children by former wives he has continually traded up for fresher pussy.
He uses his wealth, charm, and power to seduce women.
He tacitly reminds women that they are complicit in his seduction, welcoming his advances when they are young and not in the employ of hillary clinton’s shadow orgs.
He holds a mirror up to women’s rapacious, animalistic sexual natures.
He is a chad who loves being a chad.
He is a doer instead of a talker.
He builds, rather than blathers.
He is a Gizmo, not a Paperwork and Lawyering drone.
He has Game.
He mocks liars, gossips, and degenerates.
He fights, and shames cowards.
He has ridiculed feminist beliefs and representatives and come away unscathed, even stronger than before.
He reminds women that their own men — their very own beta male bootlickers — may think the same things as Trump and pursue the same pleasures if they had Trump’s stones and Trump’s options.

Iconic Maleness embodied by Trump is the hot branding phallus that penetrates the hunchbacked ids of bitter women and the manginas who are fated to settle for them. Trump and his Trumpericans spotlight and magnify the romantic failures and futility of the Nasty Women and the Girly Boys. It’s no wonder they hate him; he’s a Big Beautiful TruthWall looming high above the muck and blocking their desperate ego-soothing escape into self-deluding fantasy.

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Shitlib Men And Shitlib Chicks: The Fracturing

The Anti-Trump “””resistance””” has always been a gynocentric movement, consisting mostly of low E single White SWPL sluts, cougars, spinsters, boy-hipped androgynes, fatsos, uglies, and older broads of the type who hang dreamcatchers over their loveless beds. The protests are majority female, and the passion is largely an outpouring of female bitching and moaning, organized at the very top by effeminate Antifa and Cozener nü-males.

I bring this up because I’ve noticed a change in the way shitlib men behave around their Shrillennial shitlib women whenever the subject of Trump is broached. The women are still crazy with wild-eyed hatred for Trump, giving themselves over to histrionic avowals to stop Trump, humiliate Trump, or even kill Trump (if they could get away with it). This has been their M.O. (Menstruation of Offense) since the election.

The shitlib (Gentile) men, though, are far more circumspect in professing the intensity of their anti-Trump hatred, so much so that I wonder if they really hate the man or if they’re mouthing empty pledges of fealty to a resistance they don’t really feel in their hearts. The difference is especially noticeable when I peel one of these shitlib men away from their Cunt4Prez shrews to have a one-on-one political conversation about current events. It’s during these times that the lemming libmask slips and I can practically hear them taking their first micro doses of red pill, scoffing at the Russia fake news and agreeing that Trump is a major earthquake in the political landscape whose ideas should be taken seriously.

The passionate shitlib women? Forget it, they’re unreachable. You either parrot their insipid Trump-hate, or you ever so gently disagree with them and they promptly exeunt in a muff huff.

Then when the libmen are back in the company of their libcunts, they immediately abandon their tentative forays into masculine realtalk for the submissive role of playing affirmation therapist to their harridans. But their affirmations are weak and feeble, and occasionally one of the libwomen will break social protocol and demand a stronger display of alliance from her Test-less wonder, which he will try to appease with a humorous segue intended to redirect the conversation away from the volatile vaj flapping to something lighter and less toxic.

My personal observations are of course the law of the land, so expect to see more breakups between less unhinged shitlib men and their insane shitlib women demanding total allegiance to their pussyhat religion. I call it The Fracturing, and I predict three consequences from it:

1. Fewer relationships between ideologically-divergent men and women (which means fewer relationships in general, because there aren’t enough lunatic libmen for every lunatic libchick).
2. More bitter single libchicks, creating a menstrual spiral into deranged anti-Trump hatred inconsolable by any therapeutic means of intervention. Not even kitten porn can save them now.
3. Intensified assortative mating and marrying along ideological complementarity. This isn’t a good trend, because it will also drive deeper rifts between classes of White people and erode citizen fellowship, two ingredients necessary for the outbreak of another civil war.

PS Maul-Righters should be careful of succumbing to insularity disease. For every dulcet Katie McHugh, there are one hundred screechy pussyhat crones. We Men of the T have a lot of work to do to pull our single White women back from the brink of madness. Keep close the Poon Commandments, and you can’t fail in your rescue mission. Pay particular attention to Poon Commandments III, VIII, XV, and XVI:

III. You shall make your mission, not your woman, your priority

Forget all those romantic cliches of the leading man proclaiming his undying love for the woman who completes him. Despite whatever protestations to the contrary, women do not want to be “The One” or the center of a man’s existence. They in fact want to subordinate themselves to a worthy man’s life purpose, to help him achieve that purpose with their feminine support, and to follow the path he lays out. You must respect a woman’s integrity and not lie to her that she is “your everything”. She is not your everything, and if she is, she will soon not be anymore.

***

VIII. Say you’re sorry only when absolutely necessary

Do not say you’re sorry for every wrong thing you do. It is a posture of submission that no man should reflexively adopt, no matter how alpha he is. Apologizing increases the demand for more apologies. She will come to expect your contrition, like a cat expects its meal at a set time each day. And then your value will lower in her eyes. Instead, if you have done something wrong, you should acknowledge your guilt in a glancing way without resorting to the actual words “I’m sorry.” Pull the Bill Clinton maneuver and say “Mistakes were made” or tell her you “feel bad” about what you did. You are granted two freebie “I’m sorry”s for the life of your relationship; use them wisely.

***

XV. Maintain your state control

You are an oak tree. You will not be manipulated by crying, yelling, lying, head games, sexual withdrawal, jealousy ploys, pity plays, shit tests, hot/cold/hot/cold, disappearing acts, or guilt trips. She will rain and thunder all around you and you will shelter her until her storm passes. She will not drag you into her chaos or uproot you. When you have mastery over yourself, you will have mastery over her.

XVI.  Never be afraid to lose her

You must not fear. Fear is the love-killer. Fear is the ego-triumph that brings abject loneliness. You will face your fear. You will permit it to pass over and through you. And when your ego-fear is gone you will turn and face your lover, and only your heart will remain. You will walk away from her when she has violated your integrity, and you will let her walk when her heart is closed to you. She who can destroy you, controls you. Don’t give her that power over yourself. Love yourself before you love her.

Strike the fear of insol into libchicks and you’ll marvel at how tractable they become.

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From Gizmos To Paperwork And Lawyering

In 1998, a Usenet proto-realtalker speculated on the topic of national decline, and why it seemed the frequency and amplitude of glorious achievement of mid-20th Century America had slowed to a flatline. (via)

From: sbharris@ix.netcom.com(Steven B. Harris)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.sf.science,sci.astro,sci.physics
Subject: Re: Solution to Fermi Paradox right here!
Date: 30 Dec 1998 06:29:33 GMT

In <76bfl2$9b7$1@nnrp1.dejanews.com> justin_s@my-dejanews.com writes:

>Pick your favorite sci-fi, (say, something written 50 years ago making
>predictions about life near the year 2000), and it’s probably wildly
>optimistic.
>
> JS

COMMENT

Yeah, but that’s only because as a society we’ve become effete and lost the will to try new things just for the hell of it. In the 60’s they were trying things like nuclear propulsion, and they were walking on the moon. Then, something horrible happened in the early 70’s. I grew up then, and I could FEEL it. I’m still trying to figure out exactly what it was, but I think what it was, was a generation of kids who grew up with television instead of playing with gizmos, and who got into power and then just turned our society into a big mess of paperwork and lawyering, because paperwork was all they’d ever learned to do. When I look at the physiology research done in the 60’s, it takes my breath away. The creativity of it! The things they did! I find my “new” ideas all the time in papers done in the 1960’s, but they never went anywhere (perfusion of organs with fluorocarbones to cool them, for example). One guy (the same guy in fact), before heart lung machines, repaired the hearts of babies by surgically cross-connecting them to the circulation of adult humans, who volunteered in order to save a life. Where has that kind of courage gone? Where are the Yeagers and the Goddards and the Microbe Hunters? How come the heros of our movies are no longer Micky Rooney or Spencer Tracy playing Thomas Edison, or Paul Muni playing Erlich or Pasteur, instead Val Kilmer playing Jim Morrison and Woody Harrelson playing Larry Flint? And movies whose heros are lawyers. Arggh. I don’t care if it is Tom Cruise or John Travolta. And the rest of the movies seem to be re-creations of 60’s TV shows.

Paperwork and lawyering. Fixing and improving and advancing society by talk-talk, not building. A lawyer president and his lawyer wife. [ed: bubba and thecunt] Crises of power that don’t involve spy planes and sputniks, but incredibly complicated and deceptive word definitions and complicated tax frauds. You think we’re not preparing to go to Mars because SF is too optimistic? Sure. But it was optimistic about whether or not the can-do engineering of the 40’s and 50’s, done by the kids who’d grown up playing with radios and mechanics in the 20’s, was going to continue. Needless to say, it didn’t. I’ve seen a late 1950’s book of science fair projects for teenagers that include things like building your own X-ray machine and cyclotron (no, I’m not kidding– it can be done). There are rockets in there, and cloud chambers, and all kinds of wonderful electronics stuff. But we didn’t go that way. Instead, we turned our children into little Clintons, and our society into a bunch of people sitting at PCs, entering data about social engineering, not mechanical engineering. So instead of going to Mars, we went instead to beaurocratic Hell. Enjoy, everybody. It really could have been different. Nature didn’t stop us– WE stopped us.

Steve Harris

(God, look at me. I’m well on the way to being Uncle Al)

I haven’t read a more prescient synopsis of American culture trends than what I’ve written myself here at this blog. “Bureaucratic [sic] hell” = Burnham’s mass SCALE dystopia come to life.

Something horribly invidious happened to America around the late 1960s and early 1970s that abruptly turned the country from greatness to a path of decline, navel-gazing solipsism, and now finally to racial self-annihilation. Soy and sugar in the food supply? The explosion of a twisted ideology into everyday life? The Pill? TeeVee?

I’ll tell you something, the hallmark of national decline is the rise of the gynarchy and the diminution of male talents and preferences.

Gizmos = male
Paperwork and Lawyering = female

You want American history in a pithy aphorism? How about this:

Male became Female. Then came the End.

Or maybe you like your pithy aphorisms with more focus and bite:

Christian European became….

you catch my drift.

Boys used to be encouraged to tinker with material objects. Now they’re encouraged to explore their emotional landscape and inner femininity (while girls are pushed to become second-rate boys). Both White boys and White girls are brainwashed on a daily basis by every institutional power to hate their race, heritage, and ancestors’ accomplishments. An accident of decadence, or the rotten fruits of a deliberately perpetrated evil?

We can turn this sinking ship around and steer it to safe harbor, but that will mean returning to the wrong side of history where we laud boys for their distinctiveness and encourage them to tinker, not shame them for preferring stoicism over social justice blubbering. On the flip side, it will mean stopping the inhuman agenda of praising girls for acting boy-like and pushing girls to think their natural female talents are signs of weakness. Less “leaning in”, more “leaving alone” to pursue the lives their sex-based dispositions organically push them toward.

The Paperwork and Lawyering crowd needs to back off and allow the Gizmo crowd to rule again. If the P&Lers won’t (they won’t), then our culture will die, or the Gizmos will fashion new machines to loosen power from the soy-weakened grips of the P&Ls.

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Maul-Right Street Artist Sabo

The Right needs more Sabos, fewer cucks. I like this guy and what he’s doing ON THE GROUND to advance the anti-globohomo, anti-leftoid, anti-cuck, pro-Trumperica resistance.

The guerrilla art movement is usually associated with leftwing politics. Banksy targets capitalism, consumerism and inequality. Blek le Rat, the father of stencil graffiti, depicts oppression and resistance.

Shepard Fairey gilded Barack Obama’s rise with the iconic “Hope” poster and now highlights the scapegoating of Muslims and the corporatisation of US politics.

In the Trump era, the right, however, has its own guerrilla artist: Sabo, a former US marine who works from an apartment-cum-studio in Los Angeles beneath a sign that says “Fuck Tibet”. Another says “Fuck peace”.

There’s no clause in the cosmic laws that says the Left has to own the domain of street art or street activism. The Maul-Right is showing that clever artlords can turn the streets into their agitprop playgrounds with arguably more impact than do the icons of the shitlib self-pleasuring consortium, given that the material the maul-right works with is by its nature incredibly subversive and id-throttling.

“Republicans are the new punk,” said Sabo, echoing a slogan on his T-shirt also adorned with an image of Trump in a three-piece suit, looking rather rakish, giving the finger. “I’m pretty much the only right-winger doing guerrilla art. I’m like patient zero, the first one doing this on our side.”

Ahem, I hate to preen out of turn, but a case can be made this very Chateau was uglytruth guerrilla art before it could be even imagined by the kweer kultur kommissars.

Several other rightwing street artists are in fact active in LA but prefer anonymity, thinking that gives their work more power. Some on the right consider Sabo a showboater.

He is not shy about self-promotion, calling himself a one-man rebuttal to Madonna, Katy Perry, Lady Gaga and other anti-Trump performers. “I cater to the street urchins, the young people. I want them to understand that there’s another message out there.”

I don’t have a problem with Sabo’s showboating as long as he’s effective, passionate, and willing to stick the shiv in leftoid guts when the sticking’s good. But anonymity does generally imbue an artist with an ineffable coolness factor.

Sabo now says he is “cautiously optimistic” about the president. “The day I came to love Donald Trump was when I saw how hard he was kicking liberals in the teeth.”

Amen, Sabo. How can you not admire a man who doesn’t cry at the sight of his own balls or apologize for their impudent heft?

The left, he said, has mastered cultural and political “dark arts” and “weaponised” Hollywood, the FBI, the IRS, universities and other institutions to promote a nefarious agenda.

Indeed, for going on sixty plus decades. But hope glimmers from a retreat nestled deep in the Alsatian wood. Chateau Heartiste is a place where lords and guests come to retrieve those dark arts and reclaim them for the side of Truth and Beauty.

***

Here’s a take on Sabo over at the Chicago Boyz.

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