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You’ve heard this story before, many times, over many years. The plot has hardly changed, though the ending this time may be new and unexpected.

A young White man was targeted by people-of-evil wielding the power of the Anti-White Hate Machine to grind him up and cast him from uptight society. This young White man along with his friends and family were threatened with doxxing, harassment, abuse, death wishes, and blacklisting from academia and future employment in a public shaming campaign so intense it would border on cruel and unusual punishment, all for the crime of….

…smirking at a professional political activist American Indian who got in his face and angrily beat a drum.

How dare you, young man, how ABSOLUTELY DARE YOU not bow and scrape before your POC betters! Defiance?! From a…..from a WHITE MAN????!!! BURN HIM!

The blood libel LLCs kicked into high gear to pass off yet another hate hoax as real news: a heavily edited video made the blue tick rounds purporting to show an “entitled”, “privileged” White man gathering a mob of MAGA Whites and surrounding an innocent elderly Indian to keep him from passing through on his way to lay a wreath at the MLK slab of Maoist brutalism, or something like that.

[Special people] triumphantly gloated. Quisling cucks quivered and quavered on cue. Garment rending, virtue sniveling White shitlibs mounted soap boxes like Jeff Bezos’ paramour mounts affletes. Penis-head losers and bitter femcunt crones vowed to psychologically castrate their sons, brothers, fathers for the sin of supporting Trump and for glancing contact with an unapologetically self-aware Whiteness.

My favorite tweet of butthurt was from Jessica Valenti, she-cunt of the feminist fruit salad ideology who is still pissed off about having to settle for a beta bitch tofu lasagna:

That’s Jessica with her hubby, on their wedding day, in a pose that shrieks “I MARRIED A BETA”. Look at her Leaning Out. Look at him leaning in to fill the love void she’s created. He could hardly be more desperate. She could hardly be less enthused. The resentment fuels her hatred of confident White men who smirk their way into good women’s hearts.

PA slips the shiv all the way into Jessica’s flabby hide:

She’s angry because she’ll never have a son like that young man.

The MAGA smirk triggered round the world sent the Fuggernaut into a tailspin of id-bursting rage. It was as if everything they secretly knew to be true — White men are the divine spark in human form, the apex predator when roused to the hunt, the better of me in every way imaginable and the source of my deepest lustful longings and envy — was encapsulated in that Smirklord’s proud defiance.

And after two, three days or years (who can tell anymore?), the bubble of righteous indignation and self-indulgent sanctimony popped with a dolorous and perfunctory pfft.

The truth was not easily suppressed for once. The full video clearly showed a calm, collected, self-confident White man standing his ground as what would later be revealed was a professional Indian activist approached him and began beating a drum inches from the White man’s face in a blatant act of provocation.

Don’t back down, White man.

And now finally —– FINALLY —– White men fight back:

Sue these motherfuckers to hell and back.

Our numbers are growing, our spirit is awakening.

From a reader,

the most honorable ending to this would be Trump inviting the Covington Catholic boys to the White House. Please write posts/get ball rolling on this.

PS From Bronze Age Pervert, a reminder that for those times doubt about Trump haunts you, to keep your perspective:

We’re throwing sand into the gears of the Anti-White Hate Machine. Beautiful white sand.

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Winter Is Coming

Winter created Whites.

Winter will save Whites.

Pray for the Long Winter.

Alms for the Grand Solar Minimum.

Shrines to the frigid night air.

Prayers to the God of the Land of the Ice and Snow.

The big freeze returns.

***

We come from the land of the ice and snow, 
From the midnight sun where the hot springs flow. 

Hammer of the gods will drive our ships to new land. 
To fight the hordes and sing, and cry. 
Valhalla, I am coming.

***

I hope the fake news media picks up on this theme and declares winter a co-opted symbol of White Nationalism. It’s not like the media aren’t used to indulging crackpot sensationalism at the urging of the SPLC (see: whole milk, OK sign). Just get the meme spreading that cold weather is congenial to Whites and causes nonwhites endless suffering, you’ll see shitlibs turning on a dime about their opposition to AGW. I want shitlib whites to feel uneasy every time they make a snowman with their 0.7 kids or strap on a pair of skis.

End game: shitlibs become global warming fans. lol

***

The North Winds won’t always be survivable by the high time preference hordes. A shortage of heating oil coupled with a mini ice age should wonderfully purify heartlands and minds.

Immigrant Song is, despite its title, a very Trumpian anthem, celebrating the Nordic warrior spirit. Or what used to be the Nordic warrior spirit.

***

A comment from elooie,

I hope my previous comment on the black pill post was the seed to this post.

I’m convinced that having very defined and CHANGING seasons where one of the seasons will kill you if you are not prepared is one of the reasons that whites have the most evolved problem solving, planning and cultural tightness.
The desert tribes had to only deal with one real season (cold nights and hot days).
All the races around the equator had plentiful rain and vegetation.
The Asian regions also had seasons but they don’t have that innate curiosity to explore like the whites. Not sure why.

There is a reason the winter Olympics is still white. We’ve been doing it since we invented them.
I could be completely wrong but I think winter is an evolutionary and survival stimulant.

Winter is hormesis, a term I first learned about at Mangan’s health blog. Hormesis is the action of mild stressors on the body and mind that promote cell rejuvenation, muscle development, and general physical and psychological health. Too little stress => shitliberalism. Too much stress => toxic overload, death.

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All women love a challenging man. From a commenter,

I think you’ll love these lyrics from Kesha’s song “Stephen”:

[Verse 2]
I’ve got guys waiting in a line
For me to play my evil girly games with all their minds
Just watch me, I’ve got it down to a simple art
Just bat my eyes like this, and there’s a broken heart
But somehow, you turned the tables, what the hell?
I can charm the pants of anyone else but you

[Chorus]
Stephen, why won’t you call me?
I’m sitting here waiting
Why won’t you call me?
Stephen, I’m feeling pathetic
I can’t take rejection
Why won’t you call me?

Female hypergamy is fed by male neediness. It is starved by male aloofness. And when a woman is heart-hungry for a man, she’ll go to great lengths — and great widths — to prove she is worth his attention.

Jerkboys are alluring to women because they don’t feed women’s allure. Beta bux “waiting in a line” to fluff her ego can only follow the script she gives them, but Sir Stephen* flips the script — “you turned the tables” — and resists her charms, or at least acts like he resists.

A man not falling to his knees to polish her pussy pedestal? Outrageous! (and oddly arousing) The jerkboy doesn’t wait in lines; he makes girls wait in a line for the pleasure of his pumpery.

CH Maxim #1: Love to a girl is when she feels a man could reject her any moment. Then her heart opens to the romantic possibilities.

horrible song.

*catch that literary ref

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Man, that Ariana Grande is a slutty little lolita, ain’t she?

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Sung to the tune of AWOLNation’s “Sail”, a brilliant parody of the dogmatic leftoid hivemind (h/t Jay in DC):

Jay:

BTW the lyrics on that ‘cover’ NPC version of AWOLNation are fucking comedy gold, a sample:

♫♫ FEEL!!
I’ve got no inner monologue
I bow before the Syangogue
Maybe I’m an NPC, baby

This is how the ego dies
I’m taking my SSRIs
Maybe I’m an NPC baby.

Feel!
Feel! ♫♫

lzolzolzolzolzolzolozlol dude nailed it

Leftoids really don’t think for themselves, so this meme hits them right in the….feels.

Jay adds that this timeline is unbeatable,

does anyone else find it absurd and ironic and somewhat befitting of clown world that Taylor Swift who was meme’d into Third Reich ubermensch status has come out as a virtue signaling shitlib and her nemesis Kanye fucking West! is /ourguy/

That is some bizarro world type shit, innit?

Abandon Boomer tropes, all Ye who enter here.

PS Paul Watson has a good take on the NPC meme phenomenon:

I know PJW catches flak from some quarters of the Maul-Right, but I think his vids are polished explainers about the shitlib insanities of the day that effectively reach a normie audience.

PPS I wonder if MPC will see a bump in traffic from people mistyping searches for “NPC”?

PMS Anglin has a funny take on the NPC shiv. (It’s been promoted from meme to shiv status, based on the anguished wails coming from butthurt leftoids.)

Here’s another great follow-up NPC post by Anglin, riffing on the JYTimes coverage of the meme.

[The NPC meme] speaks to the core nature of this unhinged leftist mob: that they are not real, that their entire lives are faked, that their emotional state is the result of a marketing campaign.

It trivializes all of them in the most brutal conceivable way.

Spot on.

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Why is this post titled “Spot the Chad” instead of “Spot the Alpha”? You’ll understand why after seeing the photo I’ve attached:

This is REO Speedwagon, pre-snowflake era rockers. Despite the classification I’m about to reveal, all these guys got mad pussy. Comes with the job.

They were (are) all alpha males according to the CH and Darwin definition of alpha male:

The alpha male attracts hot women, attracts women strongly, and attracts a lot of women.

Quantity and quality of female interest defines the alpha male.

By that metric, all the members of REO Speedwagon were alphas, hauling groupie pussy in its prime like a shrimping net.

But within the subset ‘rocker’, we find subtle and not-so-subtle physiognomic differences of male value. In the photo above, there is a clear Chad and a clear Cuck.

CHAD: far right (ofc)
INTENSE ALPHA: 2nd from left
GOOFBALL ALPHA: far left
NICEGUY: middle
CUCK: 2nd from right

FYI, “intense alpha” is the brooding artist type who may or may not leave a lover before morning light. “Goofball alpha” is the class clown if the class clown wasn’t a secretly low self-esteem basketcase.

The Cuck with the homo pose is the lead singer, Kevin. The Surfer Chad is the bass player, Bruce. So did their real lives match their physiognomies? reactionary writes,

Mostly. Kevin was their lead singer and had a very effeminate/annoying voice. Bruce was there bass player and would occasionally do vocals. “Back on the Road Again” is sort of an alpha song.

So what distinguishes the Chad from the generic alpha male? Politics, for one. No Chad is With Her. In point of fact, very few alpha males are With Her, so that’s not telling us much. The Chad phenotype tends to more often align with conventional views of what characterizes an alpha male (heavy jawline, Eastwoodian squint, overhanging brow ridge, mesomorphic frame, perpetual smirk). This serves as a reminder that more often than not, real life alpha males don’t look like central casting alpha males. They don’t look like soyboy cucks either, but the physical properties of the alpha male span a wide spectrum.

Crucially, I think the biggest delineator of the Chad is his aversion to emoting. He keeps it “close to the vest”, except when he’s giving atomic wedgies to nerds. There’s an IDGAF vibe about him that says “when the time comes, I’ll gladly take up sword and rid our land of these locusts”. Balancing this is a hint of playfulness in the eyes, honed from years in middle and high school teasing girls to heights of tingle eruptions.

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One of the greatest tunes (and visually arresting music videos) of the ’90s — Tool’s Stinkfist — uses the symbolism of fist fucking to warn against creeping consumerism in both the material and romantic senses. Stinkfist’s pairing of the vulgar with the transcendental is right in the Chateau wheelhouse. Pure poetry, and possibly a proto-vision of what would later become this blog outpost’s overarching theme.

Knuckle deep inside the borderline.
This may hurt a little but it’s something you’ll get used to.
Relax. Slip away.

There’s something kinda sad about
The way that things have come to be.
Desensitized to everything.
What became of subtlety?

How can this mean anything to me
If I really don’t feel anything at all?

I’ll keep digging
‘Til I feel something.

I bring this up because Tool’s frontman and creative genius, Maynard James Keenan, was recently PoundMeToo’ed by a slutty groupie.

Maynard is as pozzed as any Left Coast musician, but surprisingly he is not on record as an anti-Trumper. The little political stuff he’s said is radically banal, by the standards of his artfag subculture, which means in the current climate of Leftoid Intolerance he stands accused as insufficiently anti-Nazi.

So maybe that’s why he was just MeToo’ed. Or maybe our society is being corrupted by lonely attention whore has-been roadie skanks who upon approaching the long midnight of post-Wall sexual obsolescence decide to spit out totally unverifiable 20-year old sexual assault accusations against famous men to scratch their itch to be vaginally relevant again.

weev has the deets:

actual Maynard quotes:

“Trump is not your enemy”

“We have the privilege to do that because of active and former law enforcement and military, defending our right to do so. Those of you who are law enforcement and military, your job is to defend our right to act like whining, entitled snowflake assholes – myself being one. Snowflakes, your job is to respect them f**king doing that for you.”

Regarldess of these quotes just read the lyrics of “Hooker with a Penis” and “Vicarious” and tell me he’s not our guy.

Maynard is a singular musical genius, unlike any other, and even if he wasn’t now that Neil Peart is retired Danny Carey is objectively the greatest living drummer. Forty Six and Two, The Grudge, Triad, Ticks and Leeches. Listen to the drums in those.

Don’t you think it is pretty likely that baseless impropriety accusations by an anonymous Twitter account getting massive coverage by the (((music journalism))) industry is a direct result of Maynard’s statements in regards to our President?

“I went back to a trailer with a rock star and watched a movie in his bed and we ended up having sex. It was rape.” Seriously, who believes this?

No one who doesn’t have an axe to grind against the expression of normal male (and female) sexuality. And by normal, I mean men are attracted to youth and beauty and women are attracted to power and fame. Put the two together, and sparks fly (which is later retconned as assault by spiteful slores).

I hope this Synchronized MeToo Menstruation will end soon, despite the overwhelming majority of the accused coming from the one group that I despise for their efforts to ruin my homeland under a deluge of Dirt Worlders…

The Bad Hair Brigade

…because the whole media-crafted enterprise reeks of forgotten sluts clamoring to revisit a few seconds of fame to slander and demonize famous men with whom those sluts didn’t have the integrity nor the horniness self-discipline to walk away from when the lay-for-play proposition was put before them.

***

The Judge comments,

Lol “..he rapes in every city”

It’s not enough to have fucked a rockstar. Now you must be raped by one.

There’s something to this cynical take. A couple generations of coke-carved lithe groupies getting banged out by rockstars (which is something of an anomaly in the sweep of human history) has inured the public to the reality of it. Everyone expects it now, so it’s no big deal, for better or worse. How’s a groupiegirl supposed to preen when throwing her legs open for rockstars has lost its cachet? Of course, she says she was raped by a rockstar! It’s not much of an achievement to be a rockstar’s ho-hum Tuesday night strum receptacle, but to arouse the ardor of a rockstar to the raping point? Ladies, that is the stuff of GRRLPOWER.

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