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Archive for the ‘Escape’ Category

Before I get to the grist of this post, a reminder about my feelings on the subject of coal burning:

On a case-by-case, practical basis, I don’t sweat it if the mudshark and her F YOU DAD boyfriend are only loosely affiliated to me. If the love is real and true (rare, but it happens), I’m not gonna rain on their charade. It’s the Equalist miscegenation propaganda, and the forced platitudes of shitlib miscegenators trying to justify their anti-Darwinian middle finger, that sticks in my craw. If the propaganda and the SJWistic glorification of dindu diving were to disappear tomorrow, I’d probably drop the subject because 1. there wouldn’t be a nonstop media assault of mixed race sproglet abominations to offend my aesthetic sensibility and 2. the risk of emotionally unstable White girls betraying their race’s heritage at the behest of subliminal media messages would be lower.

Now that that’s out of the way, PA provides an intro to the main subject:

Check out that Stephanie tweet. Dad threatens his mudshark daughter with disowning. She tweets the letter saying more or less that “racissss so sad it’s the current year.” Thank God I have sons, no daughters.

Unfortunately (and unsurprisingly, after the mudshark received the serrated side of the CH shiv), short-sighted Stephanie (not fat, looked pretty) deleted her Twatter account, so I can’t dig up the letter her despondent father wrote to his daughter and re-post it here.

But I can say this about that: Every father, every parent, has a perfectly justified and legitimate grievance when a daughter strays from the Good and White to slum it with vibrancy. In fact, I’d go so far to say that nonWhite parents are equally justified to fear their own daughters dating outside the race, and to try to thwart it.

The plain fact of it is that parents want children, and grandchildren, who resemble them and share their temperamental qualities; this is a deeply primal genetic imperative imprinted into the hindbrain. To deny this longing is to deny a piece of one’s divinely-inspired humanity. We can see how the denial looks on the faces of older patriarchs in family photos featuring a mudshark daughter and her dusky affront: blank, listless, sallow, hinting at a soul killed dead from suppressed grief. The eyes have a thousand-coal stare.

What miscegenation comes down to is defilement — of family, of thousands of years of irreplaceable genetic legacy, of Truth and Beauty. This is why, if people (including shitlibs) are honest, they will admit that the thought of their daughters getting fucked — yes, FUCKED… let’s not prettify the gutter rebellion with softened odes to intimacy — by a man of another race, especially of a genetically and phenotypically distant race, disgusts them to their very marrow.

(Oil drilling sons don’t elicit the same degree of disgust, but that’s because sons don’t carry the risk of burdening the family with a technicolor conception.)

mendo writes:

I checked that out and saw the all the people supporting her. There was even another girl that disowned her dad, for other reasons, and was glad she did.

Fucking parenting failure all the way.

Love how the dad had the suitcases on the ready and where she could find them.

greg adds:

Exactly… people forget that, back in the day, banning and shunning wasn’t just for outsiders.

Community integrity demanded that it be applied to one’s own family, if need be.

This is a good time to plug PA’s PSA on how to prevent mudsharking.

My sentiment is that White fathers have a MORAL DUTY to keep their daughters off the coal. To abandon this task, or worse to welcome the reproductive dispossession, is tantamount to betraying one’s own identity. It’s a scary prospect, but it needs consideration. If as a father you’ve given it all you’ve got, and you still lose your daughter to dinduville, then the option to disown is available. If you can’t save her, you can at least save yourself decades of humiliation concealing your torment for social approval.

I imagine the biggest concerns of new parents must be fear of a son growing up gay and a daughter landing in a relationship with a racial alien. This is about as harsh an ugly, un-PC truth as you’ll read anywhere, which is usually the case with truths that emanate from the id, where platitudes find no purchase. Whites currently constitute less than 10% of the total world population, and shrinking fast. Pretty White women are, by a global accounting, as rare as blue lobsters. Throwing that precious gift away and destroying thousands of years of evolved preternatural uniqueness to, in most scenarios, spite a parent or an ex-lover, is the height of folly and the banality of evil.

A Dark Future.

***

UPDATE

Here’s a web cache of the father’s desperate letter to his mudsharking daughter. And here’s a link to an incredibly faggy run-down of the story plus letter, written by Mustafa Gatollari (good lord). Representative quotes: “All right so it’s the year 2016. The civil rights movement happened.”…”Cops shoot suspects in the back just because of the color of their skin.”…”It’s the whole being super racist thing that’s the worst part. Best of luck to Stephanie and her man, and hopefully her dad will realize he’s totally on the wrong side of history,”…”What’s up with us as a country?”

What’s up Mustafa, is that Whites are WAKING UP to the occupation of their country by ingrate goat-humpers like yourself. If you think your feels are hurty now, just wait until the gloves are off. (Mustafa’s whine is so SJW-ish I wonder if it’s a parody.)

Getting back to the Stephanie business and her dad’s letter, one can’t help but think her dad’s words got under her skin, as she felt compelled to publicize his letter for wagon circling “atta girl”s from a small army of degenerate social media sluts.

A father can exert a lot of influence over his daughter by removing the credit card. Too bad Stephylococcus’s dad didn’t avail himself of that option. A woman will bend to a strong man’s will, and that includes daughters who have had their weekly allowance lifeline cut off. If that fails, the last thing left for a father is disowning. No money, no emotional support, no contact ever again. In most normal daughters, this will strike a deep fear and shame in them that may not become apparent to themselves until years later, which will be too late. Mudshark orphans are tragic lessons in preventable suffering that can serve as examples in what not to do for the others.

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And an Abo New Year!

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Via Steve. Backdraft: definition.

A commenter over there adds his dystopian flair,

If you project the African population based on population growth from 2000-2015, Africa will have somewhere north of 7 billion people by AD 2100. That’s well higher than the UN estimates of 4 billion or so. If anything, UN estimates are far too conservative.

There is no way, of course, that Africa will have 7 billion people by 2100. The means by which they don’t reach that number are a matter of intense interest, however. War, famine, disease, or genocide – which will it be?

Note that when I say genocide, I don’t mean nations or tribes of Africans killing each other – I mean Africans migrating out and killing the rest of us. Because at the current rate, if they did so we’d probably let them. That’s how suicidal our dumbass leaders have become.

Perhaps 150,000 years from now scientists will all be talking about how mankind evolved from a people who migrated out from Africa 150,000 years earlier and killed off the hominid populations already living in the other regions of the earth, occasionally raping or otherwise interbreeding with some of them and thus passing on a little of their DNA.

Leftoid: “10% non-White America put a man on the moon. Just think what we could accomplish by importing millions more vibrants into Minnesota and Bavaria suburbs, like this charming fellow overflowing with untapped human capital!”

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When (psychologically healthy, retained survival instinct) White America has nightmares about a demographic tsunami of illegal aliens swamping their electoral prerogative and ruining their cultural, aesthetic, economic, and environmental heritage, Mexicans usually come to mind. But that’s a woefully incomplete picture of the massive and worldwide scale of the immigration invasion to America’s, and Europe’s, White homelands.

The immigration invasion and (so far) bloodlessly genocidal extirpation of Whites from their own countries has its origins in many foreign non-White lands. This map shows the countries of origin of the second most populous immigrant groups leeching living in each US state:

A lot of Phillippinas, Chinese, subcontinental Indians, and, emerging as the next big wave to (re)settle Minnesota, Africans.

Here’s an illegal immigrant country-of-origin map for the year 2012, created from US Dept of Homeland Security statistics.

Not even Whyte. Look at that big fat goose egg representing any immigrants coming from Europe. This is nothing less than total displacement of one race by other races, and it doesn’t matter if the displacement is “illegal”, since the powers that be consider such legalistic fictions to be mere technicalities on the path to a New World GloboCorpBorg.

Are you a PUA hoping that the huddled masses will bring a few huddled hotties your way? Think again.

Sorry, no immigrant Poon Paradise here. Open Borders is Closed Beavers. Unless grandmas make you horny.

In 2013, Mexico was overtaken by both China and India as a source of new invaders to America. Emotionally-barren spergs rejoice at the arrival of our Oriental high IQ overlords, but the rest of us know the score: Increased corruption, nepotism, low trust, social disconnection, and the loss of the myriad intangibles that comprise a culture and make it livable for the founding people who were the creators of that culture.

Is an Asian Future really better than a Mexican Future in America? Eh, I’m not so sure about that. I am sure that a White Future for, shock!, Whites would be best, but for some reason that position is considered beyond the pale of settled discussion by the Puppeteers and the hordes of pants-wetting escapees from the funny farm.

Depressing post. I’ll end it on a high note. Here’s what a beautiful Walled World would look like:

Background on the above map. It’s basically a map depicting border walls around territories where 73% of the world’s income exists. Or: it’s a map of the White World (and honorary Whites, the Japanese) walling off the non-White hinterlands.

A suspiciously unified voice of whiny snark is heard over the Realtalk. “But you can’t just build a wall. A wall won’t do anything to stop the Vibrancy Enrichment!”

Really, now? Tell that to the Israelis. Their wall is working so well that news of it must be ignored by the American Hivemind, lest her own people get the same idea.

According to the most recent quarterly figures published by the Population, Immigration and Borders Authority, 36 people have been caught trying to enter [Israel’s] southern border since January.

It’s an incredible drop after 10,440 were caught in 2012, 17,298 in 2011 and 14,715 in 2010. In the years before that, the numbers were lower but still in the thousands.

Walls work, and construction costs are more than paid for in a few years time.

The fence along the Israel-Egypt border built over several years cost an estimated $377 million, according to the Times of Israel. The Algemeiner reported that the main section of the fence – a 143-mile stretch – took two years to build.

$377 million is chump change to our bloated US government. The US spends over $12 billion on bilingual education programs alone. Even scaling up to the length of the US-Mexico border, it’s clear that cost of construction would be more than worth it in savings down the road.

***

Related to the subject of this post, reader Steely Dan writes about the reality of interracial dating.

I’ve been talking about the interracial-dating disparity for years. Nobody ever wanted to listen. The number of white women who date inter-racially compared to the number of white men who do in my area is quite significant. People always told me that “it doesn’t affect me” and I shouldn’t care. But it does affect all white males. The number of single white males in my area is much larger than the number of single white females.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what an abundance of single men does to a man’s chances to find a woman. There’s a reason men don’t like to go to parties where it’s mostly other men. Hell, even on mainstream websites like Yahoo, they often list Best cities for Single Men, based solely on the male/female ratio of the population. Often the cities that are best for single men only have a higher female population by a few percentage points.

Considering that, just how does one not expect the number of white women in inter-racial relationships not to affect that? On top of that, consider all of the illegal immigration. The vast majority of illegal immigrants are male. This country is turning into a sausage fest.

And who wants to live in a sausage fest.

It’s not quite the case that the “vast” majority of immigrants to the US are male, but it is a majority. And in the sexual market, all it takes is a small population size skew in the direction of one sex or the other to have profound effects on the dating culture.

Maybe The Trumpening should hit the Sausage Fest angle of immigration hard? If he talks about how immigrants are mostly men and are turning the whole country into a sword fight, I bet he’d clean up with the beta male demo. Then he could segue into how most of the immigrant men are nowags, street shitters, and stoop laborer child rapists, and clean up the White women vote.

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Thumping, throbbing, pulsing… a sinuous dolphinoid stroke through crisscrossing waves of briny, grinding flesh, arrive at destination: a ramshackle tropic-themed auxiliary bar. I wave, regally, in the vicinity of the bartendress, to order a stiff one. To my left, propped lordotically on a stool, a slim blonde in slimmer dress squeezes a lime wedge into her love potion. She thinks (incorrectly) a stray sour squirt hit me; I feign injury.

Blondie: “Oh, I’m sorry about that!”

Left hand up to left eye, I execute a grimace with great gusto. “Aagh! My eye! It burns.”

She gawks for a beat, I spread two fingers slowly apart, revealing the abstractly-afflicted eye, peering at her with my miraculously and expediently cured vision through the finger gap, smiling with same orb a reprieve from a personal injury lawsuit. I leave the scene, pressed in equal measure by physiological necessity and the advantages of calculated absence. Her friend, almost as attractive, says “bye” loudly as I set off.

The right inflection can flip a “bye” into a “why not stay for a longer ‘hi'”?

Re-trace my dolphin migration, arrive at bathroom to discharge the blowhole. Too many pissers. The walls bulge, Matrix-like, with the teem of testosterone. Zipping and careful to avoid slipping in the slosh of urine accumulating on the floor, I contort my return way through the crowd to the bathroom exit, as a crescendo of primate chest beatings alerts my early warning detection system. A stygian mutant standing in the doorway prognathously bellows, “That’s rude, man. That kinda rude can get a man killed”, at a retreating Topper pretending to ignore the taunt. He repeats his threat in staccato bursts of gumfire three or four (thousand) times, a menacing series of war cries intended to evoke the fear of an inevitable eruption of normalcy into sudden, violent, pitched battle. I raise my arms into a preparatory garrison as I snake around the rapidly intensifying black hole of gravitational incivility.

Escape velocity achieved. One hundred paces between chaos and rapture. Back at dryland Bar Tiki, the blonde, still seated, still smoldering, shifts to make room for my adjacent insertion. I accost her.

“You know I’m practically blind in my right eye now.”

“You mean, your left eye?”

“Oh, yeah, my left eye. Blind as a bat. At least your right side looks good. I hope your left side makes the grade.”

Her face energizes for gratifying combat. She sparkles, I toggle. Everything is gonna be alright.

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Yesterday, I speculated on motives for co-pilot Andreas Lubitz’s murderous sabotage of the plane he flew into a moutain. Three of my speculations appear to be strong possibilities, based on the most current evidence come to light.

2. Beta male rage. He suffered a recent breakup and took it out on himself and 150 strangers. […]

4. Terrorist mole. We’ve had a spate of planes going down because of pilot treachery. Have secretive terror-sponsoring societies filled flight schools with terrorist moles? Talk about the long game… […]

6. Muslim convert. No evidence of this, but I wouldn’t be surprised if the media Hivemind keeps this kind of info under wraps for the duration of public interest.

I settled on the schizophrenia explanation, figuring that based on Lubitz’s history battling depression and bad things happening to people who take anti-psychotics that it was the most likely reason for his mass murder-suicide.

But, that wasn’t my first instinct. When I saw a photo of the guy, my gut told me he was a lovelorn beta male candidate who may have flew (heh) into a psychotic episode triggered by a relationship breakup. I decided against my gut, in favor of the more “PC” speculation. I should’ve stuck with my gut. News arrives that Lubitz was seeing a therapist to get over his fiancée dumping him.

Reports this morning suggested the pilot may have been badly affected by a “relationship crisis” and was struggling to cope following a break-up with his girlfriend – who he was due to marry next year.

He is said to have shared an apartment in Dusseldorf – the destination of the doomed plane – with a woman whose surname is Goldbach.

The beta male rage angle is looking better.

(NB: This isn’t omega male rage, a la Elliot Rodger. Omega males are sexless castaways. Beta males can get girlfriends, but are awful at maintaining relationship hand, so they frequently get dumped, what seems to them, out of the blue.)

Chalk one up for CH speculation #2. What about the other speculations? Looks like I was onto something as well when I suggested (#s 4 and 6) that Lubitz may have converted to Islam.

All evidence indicates that the copilot of Airbus machine in his six-months break during his training as a pilot in Germanwings, converted to Islam and subsequently either by the order of “radical”, ie. devout Muslims , or received the order from the book of terror, the Quran, on his own accord decided to carry out this mass murder. As a radical mosque in Bremen is in the center of the investigation, in which the convert was staying often, it can be assumed that he – as Mohammed Atta, in the attack against New York – received his instructions directly from the immediate vicinity of the mosque.

We’ll see if this gets confirmed by German authorities. Or not, given that the Davosian Hivemind would wish to assiduously conceal such information from the public.

The whole horrible spasm of evil stinks to high hell of the effluvium excreted by a nexus of romantically defeated beta male rage + psychotropics + religion of peace + social atomization. Like commenter Bill said, white Westerners, and white Western men in particular, have become “unmoored”. Blowouts like Lubitz could become a feature of the future, rather than inexplicable one-offs. Unmoored white men, and especially white women, will increasingly find a soothing comfort in the black-and-white tenets offered by the alternative to secular, vibrantly diverse, libertardian materialism: Muhammadeism.

(A battle pitting Muslim beheaders against beep booping libertarians is gonna be awfully one-sided. And seriously cut into my poolside time.)

Chief Christian Sadist Pleasureman writes a lot about SCALE, and how its growth is tearing apart the fabric of society. He’s onto something, but I should point out that SCALE has other downstream effects he doesn’t often consider. One of them is the observed reality that massive SCALE permits women a broader pool of alpha fux to garnish their beta bux. SCALE encourages women, and the top 20% alpha males they desire, to satisfy their worst instincts.

Kind-faced (aka tamed) beta males like Andreas Lubitz get chewed up and spit out by SCALE. They have no community outside of immediate family. The implicit contract of relationship stability that was a given in the time of his beta father and grandfather has been severed. SCALE has permitted wider romantic vistas for women, for good and ill, and they are voting with their feet. The wreckage of Lubitzs left behind looks like the dumbstruck face of a good-natured beta who can’t believe his dependability and emotional support aren’t good enough for his disenchanted lover.

So now the question remaining is whether Lubitz’s romantic troubles precipitated his psychotic break and turn to Islam, or if his mental problems and embrace of Islam pushed his girlfriend away. Either way, the story is an omen for the future of white civilization.

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Reader Mitch Cumstein tells thee of his saga, of his days of thigh adventure!

When I was 17, I worked for this magazine as a summer job. They hired this 30-something lady to be the face of the company in its adverts. Striking for her age. HB9. No one at work dared flirt with her, because she was “married”. However, I knew she was game when I realized 1. Her husband reeked of beta and 2. She accepted every invite to hang after work at the bars. She even rallied the troops most of the time, which is a dead giveaway.

Anyway, another coworker was getting married and HB9 RSVPd with no plus one (another sign), her husband was out of town (another) and she invited us all to come over and drink at her house after the wedding (!!!).

I was 17…the office loved me and I could see she was seeing the affection everyone had for me. People sneaking me drinks, etc. It was an “honorable little brother” type love, and she took notice. She tried chiding me at her house. “Those dance moves you had on the dance floor were inappropriate…” Agreed and amplified (“yup”, “were they? i was too caught up in the rhythm to notice”). I remember she asked, “What do all these coworkers see in you anyway?” And I was buzzed enough to say, “I’d show you, but I probably wouldn’t be invited to your husband’s birthday party if I did.” Her tongue was planted firmly in her cheek. Within five minutes, we were making out and I was fingering her.

She clears everyone out of the house. I tell everyone to go on ahead, I’m going back to get my jacket. When I opened the door, she was standing there, ass naked. She walked into her room and I followed. When we got there, I stopped. Most men would’ve gone ahead, but I realized: THIS IS TOO EASY. It was low-hanging fruit. So I kissed her on the head and made my exit.

The next morning, I get a call on my phone from her. Except when I answer, it’s her husband. He tells me to meet him outside a pizzeria a mile from my house. I go and he’s standing there, pretending to be stoic.

Him: You son of a bitch…
Me: Present.
Him: You are scum…
Me: Yup.
Him: Don’t you have anything to say for yourself?
Me: Well…I didn’t fuck your wife…but the next guy will.

That one hit him like a sledge hammer. It was too true to deny. I guess they’d moved around a lot together, which is why they came to our town in the first place. My friends tell me he didn’t kick my ass because I was 17 and he’d be embarrassed to explain it all if he had to, but I disagree. He actually thanked me before taking off. “Thank you for being so honest,” was what he said. He was THAT beta. They were divorced within a year.

The next day at work, I was stocking sodas and the HB9 dropped a gift bag at my feet with a smile. Inside it were my sunglasses. I left them in his bedroom and that’s how he found out. It wasn’t even that she told him out of guilt; the guy found a pair of sunglasses in his room and had her dead to rights.

The takeaway: you grow up thinking married women are hard to snag, but in reality, they’re easier. It’s because most are lonely. Have relations with them or don’t, but if you do…don’t forget your sunglasses.

Bored wives are cheating wives, in heart if not in pussy. And where a woman’s heart goes, her hole is sure to follow.

Women complain that they have to keep up their looks so their husband’s eyes don’t stray, but they fail to recognize the tougher job men must undertake to keep the interest of their wives…. omnipresent charm and sexiness, to be called upon at will and dispensed in precise degrees of need as with a chemist’s skilled titration hand. The legally entangled husband’s job is made tough by the nature of women’s demands, which are psychological outgrowths of the fundamental premise. The job is tougher still in a social environment which has unleashed and sanctioned the most primitive animal instincts of women, and which offers women endless opportunities for financial and emotional exploit through the feminism-directed man-loathing divorce industrial complex.

PS I understand that there will be the usual readers who disbelieve this story. CH is not interested in the after-school job of parsing lines of code in reader-submitted anecdotes for evidence of fantasy, but we can tell you from experience that stories similar to Mitch Cumstein’s are common enough to warrant testimonial status, even if the specific, and probably poorly recalled, dialogue snippets are reconstituted in stilted or hubristic form.

Having stated the above disclaimer, I have to ask Cumstein… why would you agree to meet the husband of your near-hit illicit liaison? Teenage naivete?

PPS If your girlfriend or wife travels without you, the chances she’ll misbehave go way up.

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