The Top 4 Future Fatty Tests

Vox has a post about identifying future female fatties which references a study that found differences in MRI scans of the brains of women when viewing food or exercise. Women whose brains essentially bellyached at the sight of exercise were more likely to fatten up for the pig roast.

CH would like to e’er so ‘umbly suggest less invasive, and perhaps equally predictive, methods for determining which girl you date today has a good shot of becoming a gross fatty tomorrow.

There are four tests, listed in descending order of predictive power.

1. The Mom Test

If her mom is fat, she’ll be fat. If her mom was fat in old pictures of herself, she’ll be fat REAL SOON. The Mom Test is about as close to a guarantee of future daughter fatness as you can get. Prepare yourself for the inevitable by acquiring new numbers and warming up your texting-while-dumping thumbs.

2. The Wrist Test

She’s thin where it most counts but her wrists are old growth logs. Watch out! The wrist bones are a dead giveaway that she has the sturdy frame to support future poundage. She might not bloat to Jabba proportions, but she will “fill out”, to use a transparently softening euphemism.

3. The Diet History Test

Does she have a history of dieting? This may take some digging to uncover, but girls who have dieted in the past are prone to dieting in the present, and they will self-incriminate about previous attempts to lose weight, failed or successful. Naturally and durably slender women rarely, if ever, actively diet. “Actively” is the key word here, since it is possible to “diet” by simply choosing certain lifestyles without making a consciously pained effort to do so. A woman whose past is littered with the detritus of planned diets is one weak moment away from turning into a post-blueberry Violet Beauregarde.

4. The Unprompted Exercise Test

Does she jump into exercise without being prompted by external influences such as peers, scheduled class times on her phone calendar, or gym fads popularized on celebrity websites? Does she undertake exercise with a smile rather than a groan? Then she’s a thin-for-life keeper! But be careful about using total exercise hours spent as a measurement of a thin girl’s propensity to stay thin. If she has to be pushed into exercise, then she can just as easily be pushed out of it by eviler life influences. And many fat girls do log impressive amounts of time curling 1 lb pink dumbbells and strolling on treadmills at the lowest speed setting. The crucial variable, then, is a girl’s eagerness to exercise, and especially her eagerness to exercise alone. This is a girl who moves her body not to lose weight, but to stimulate a dopamine rush. Happily, a welcome side effect of that dopamine craving is a slenderness that just won’t quit.

So there you have it. Tally your girlfriend’s score.

Would you bang her sexy mom? Check.
Are her wrists like songbird legs? Check.
Is her idea of a diet not eating like a hog? Check.
Does she run five miles without advertising it to the whole world, or making a Hollywood production out of it? Check.

Congratulations! You have a girl whose tight hourglass bod will hold up for years, and even decades, to come. I’d say slap a ring on it, but that’s the one test that will reverse the positive result of passing all four of the above Future Fatty Tests.

14 Things No One Will Tell Fat Girls… So I Will

Things that I wish I deluded myself with earlier. Things that I’ve learned in online life, where babbling nonsense can never be fact-checked. Things people really need to talk about more, until they start to believe their own bullshit:

Everyone has rolls when they bend over. Everyone.

Yes, it’s true. When women hug their knees they show tummy rolls. ALL OF THEM HAVE TUMMY ROLLS. Of course, some rolls are tiny miniature baguettes that have to be coaxed out with extreme physical contortion and some are sun-bleached whale carcasses that protrude at the slightest exertion. And some rolls are so mighty they undulate even when the woman is standing straight. Not that any of this should make a difference, Judgy McJudgidouche. Everyone is equally sexy to the opposite sex. Except for creepers and nerds.

When people say “you’re gorgeous”, believe them.

Because if you start doubting the sincerity of random strangers who just want to make it through the day without starting fights with hair-trigger, insecure fatties, you’ll get depressed and think about killing yourself. (Protip: Don’t embarrass your family by having your dead body airlifted through a hole in the roof. Do the dirty deed in an empty field, preferably downwind of major population centers.) When well-meaning friends genuinely compliment your looks despite all evidence to the contrary, it’s because they see all of you. I mean, they see ALL of you with assistance from fish-eye lenses. So they know how to tailor their lies accordingly.

“Arm flab is embarrassing.”

No it’s not, go fuck yourself. Arm flab is romantic. Think about all the songs written about boys dying in your arms tonight… from asphyxiation.

You’re not stunning despite your body. You’re stunning because of your body.

That’s true. When a fat woman embraces you with all the inner beauty she can muster, you will be stunned and gasping for breath as your spine cracks. If you start to see a white light at the end of a tunnel, you’re not having a near-death experience; that’s just a flashlight she lost six months ago wedged in her cleavage. I am of the firm belief — much like the firmness with which creationists hold their beliefs — that every person is beautiful (except for the aforementioned creepers and nerds), and so this leaves the inside to be the part that is most telling when it comes to true “beauty”, which I have put in scare quotes because there’s no such thing as beauty, except for the even harder to discern stuff that exists on the inside. Presumably somewhere in the mitochondria?

A guy can pick you up off your feet, and it won’t break his back.

It won’t, I promise! Getting picked up by him won’t cripple anything but perhaps his ego as he struggles to deadlift a weight well above his one rep max.

True story. This just happened to me for the first time in… six years? I’m considerably heavier than I was 6 years ago (like… 70 pounds heavier) and so when I ran up to my friend Eric for a hug and he picked me up with my heels in the air… it left me breathless. I had forgotten that it was possible; I had accepted a life void of being lifted. So exhilarating. Eric didn’t suffer any lasting injuries that I could tell and he walked away pretending to be Ok, before spending the evening alone icing every joint in his body.

You don’t need to exercise every day in order to feel better about yourself.

You could get your dopamine fix with a tub of butterfat, for instance. You don’t owe it to anyone to look good for them, unless you want to be noticed by normal men with functioning libidos.

You’re allowed to fall in love with yourself. I promise.

This will be the scariest thing you will ever do, because there will be some moldy fungus colonies in your belly folds that will be very hard to love. It will also be the most amazing (albeit super delusional) experience you will ever have. It doesn’t make you narcissistic. It doesn’t make you vain. It makes you blind to reality, and that’s liberating in every nuance of the term.

It’s also okay to have days were you don’t love yourself.

It’ll take a long time to reverse the effects of self-hate indoctrination and brainwashing by hanging out on feminist fat-acceptance websites where you can indulge self-love indoctrination and brainwashing.  It’s going to take a lot longer than you think to reverse this thinking, because the non-rationalizing part of your brain knows that fatness kills romance dead. So give the media the finger, and move forward into a different media that tells you what you want to hear.

Everyone’s boobs are uneven. If you have a lot of boobs, they might be way uneven.

If you have a lot of boobs. you may want to see a doctor. Superfluous boobs are weird. But if you have just two boobs, and they’re uneven, worry about other things. Unevenness is not as much of a turn-off to men as are hanging sacks of seal blubber pendulously slapping the top of a fupa.

There are people who prefer large ladies. And I mean all sizes of large.

I thought that my best bet in life was to find a partner who accepted my fat. Pause. Give me a minute to hang my melonhead and shake it at myself. Not only are there people who adore “thick” women, but a LOT of them who prefer it. By “people”, I mean loser men with no options. By “LOT”, I mean one or two weirdo fatty fuckers.

Here is what you need to know: you do NOT need to settle for a lover who is “okay” with your body. You have the right (and millions of imaginary opportunities) to find someone who is infatuated with your body. You deserve to be worshiped by a freak fat fetishist who wants to masturbate into your chins, woman!

Fat chicks bang hot guys… ALL. THE. TIME.

If my proof by assertion doesn’t convince you, there’s always Hugh Jackman. And a million indiscriminately horny black men who would bang your back tits in a drunken haze.

“Girls” showed what society thinks about that when Hannah’s character has a weekend romance with an attractive and wealthy doctor. People flipped their shit. It was like seeing a beautiful woman in the arms of a pimply brony with a stutter. It violated too many rules about how the world really works. Never mind that the show is a vehicle for Lena Dunham’s wish fulfillment feminist fantasies, the message to us fatty fats is a positive one, and should remind us that hot guys aka socially awkward rejects will settle for dumping their tepid crippled seed in our distended porcine holes when the couch crease stops looking attractive.

Exceptions prove that the rules don’t apply to US, ladies. Now let’s group hug with our T-rex arms.

Riding during sex will NOT collapse his insides.

But it may kill him just the same.

Wearing whatever you want is a political statement.

Join the revolution. Throw style rules out the window. Wear the tutu. Wear the horizontal stripes. Wear the turquoise skinny jeans (shoe horn included). Wear the see-through blouse. Wear the bikini (sans bridge). Wear the sweat pants. Wear the shirt that says “Does this shirt make me look fat?”. Wear whatever it is that makes you happy, even if that’s the four-person tent tarp. This is your life. And it’s the life of everyone else who will mock the Mariana Trench plumber’s crack of your revolutionary posturing.

You are fucking beautiful.

I’m saying this with a straight face and seriously meaningful look where I maintain eye contact for an uncomfortable amount of time, because these are the immense efforts I need to make to convince myself as well as you of an absurdity that is so transparently false to anyone with the eyes to see. I know you don’t feel like you fit into the category of gorgeous that our world aka immutable biological reality creates. I know that its hard. I know that its a daily battle to adhere to proper grammar. But fuck their fascist beauty standards, replace them with your own fascist beauty standards. The second you stop looking for a skinny model in your funhouse mirror and start looking at YOU… is the second you will start to appreciate the solitary life of the manatee. Stop looking for folds. Stop looking for canyon-sized dimples. You are perfect in the middle of a polar vortex where your layer of insulating fat gives you a survival advantage. You are more than enough for that all-you-can eat brunch buffet. You are the best thing that has ever happened to discarded piano cases doubling as coffins. And you are fucking beautiful to hungry predators looking for immobile prey and an easy week-long meal.

Say it with me, because no one of sound mind will say it with us.

“Thing #1: You’re fucking repulsive to the human eye. Oh shit! How did that get past the hamster editor?”

When Alpha Males Square Off

Can you spot the alpha-iest alpha who ever alpha’ed?

A hushed crowd gathers at a safe distance round the two great white beasts… lords of their jungles… locked in a struggle predetermined by ancient custom and cosmic law. They slowly circle, gazes unwavering, searching for a flash of weakness in cold orbs of blue ice that have seen much. Stalking and circling, bodies taught under the veneer of custom suits and polite banter, prepared to spring to action. Their minds electrified with the weight of the rapprochement, jowls flaring a crimson warning. The winner will acquire mating rights to the loser’s concubines, and oh my is that a lot of concubines. The women on the losing side will wail and gnash their teeth, but only for a moment before regrouping and surrendering with barely concealed relief and joy to the carnal caretaking of the new king…

It’s just a snapshot of two human silverbacks in the wild, but these frozen totems at the pinnacle of their male power give us clues to the subtle undercurrents of intention and the restrained but fraught posturing that accompanies the spectacle of an alpha male face-off. It doesn’t happen often — super alpha males tend to give each other a wide berth in their natural habitats — so when a direct clash of caliphs does happen it’s occasion to clear the arena for a primetime show.

Both of these potentates have strong alpha male body language. You would expect nothing less than ramrod straight backs, squared shoulders and jutting chins from two men who are accustomed to ordering successful assassinations and plowing ass ten to a bed. Their faces are expressionless, void of the slightest twinkle of a smile in the eyes or mouth, and this too is expected when two high status men, trained by decades of accumulating a mountain of lessers and climbing over their prostrate souls, confront one another and must ascertain the other’s sentiment without revealing clues to their own emotional state. Wry smiles are affordable when one’s potential antagonist is a beta male; such an amiable gesture signals a vulnerability that the high status can easily indulge. But on the battlefield of equals, the crowd unsure which prince to line up behind, the smile is stashed lest the men risk an accidental tell of submission.

For a deeper analysis, we need to locate small details that evade cursory examination. Eye contact is important here. Putin is locked like a polonium-tipped bullet on DiCaprio’s eyes. His stare communicates, if a communique can be discerned, that he is alternately bored by this dog and pony show and pleased with the passing thought that he could… radically alter… Leo’s life trajectory with a word.

DiCaprio’s eyes, unfortunately, are obscured by the camera angle, so we can’t know if he’s meeting Putin’s pupils or looking askance as Putin sizes him up. We’ll give him the benefit of the doubt and say the former.

Super Alpha Male Score (SAMS) so far: Putin 1, DiCaprio 1.

Putin is not a tall man. Yet in every photo of him, he appears capable of adeptly adjusting his posture and gaze in the company of taller men. The proof of this is that you hardly ever see a picture of Putin and immediately think “Damn, he’s a short man.” He leaves a taller impression on the viewer. DiCaprio has natural gravitas due to his relative height, an advantage which Putin must neutralize. And he does, with a jaunty cock of the head and careful refusal to raise his chin too high to accommodate DiCaprio’s elevated presence. For this impressive feat, we must award Putin.

SAMS: Putin 2, DiCaprio 1.

Sadly, as the CH giveth, the CH taketh away. Note Putin’s drink; he’s holding that snifter too high up his torso, a classic  habit of defensiveness. Keep that drink by your waist, Comrade!

SAMS: Putin 2, DiCaprio 2.

Putin’s face seems more relaxed, but his carriage more tense. DiCaprio appears a little more relaxed throughout the shoulders and upper back. Leo’s brow is more knitted, though, which gives him the look of a man who is trying too hard to appear tough, or who is struggling with constipation. This one’s a wash.

SAMS: Putin 2, DiCaprio 2.

Now what? When direct comparison is limited, we turn to the adoring gaze of the crowd. The alpha male is as much a creation of the perceptions of the people who eagerly draft in his wake as he is a locus of his own alphaness. This crowd is fixed on DiCaprio. Putin may as well be another gawker.

If we stop here, and it would be reasonable to do so, the winner of the Super Alpha Male Square Off can be declared.

SAMS: Putin 2, DiCaprio 3.

Not much more to say, you say? Hold on, CH judges are privy to documents and dossiers that alter the complexion of the proceedings. We are fairly certain that DiCaprio has never slyly called out the ethnic composition of the first Soviet government and trolled the entirety of the Western world’s media.

SAMS: Putin: Irrepressible chutzpah, DiCaprio: Fancyboy.

Vlad, your trophy has been delivered to your country estate.

Desperate Male Of The Month

The desperate male is a subspecies of the beta male. His modus operandi can be summed up in three words:

Always be chasing.

His philosophy is a simple one, assembled from the cut scenes of a thousand rom coms where the persistent Lloyd Dobler gets the girl in the end. He adheres to the core belief that women reward men who lavish them with flattery and intense declarations of romantic fealty.

Sometimes, once or twice in a millennium, he succeeds. Most of the time, men like him fail to get the girl they want, and often accomplish the opposite of what they intended: they incite the wrath or contemptuous pity of their pedestaled love interests.

To celebrate the craven puling of the desperate, clingy ünterbeta male and his mule-headed refusal to see women for what they are, the sheiks of the shocker, the maestros of the magic fingerbang, your ever ‘umble viceroys of entice ploys, CH house lords will feature occasional exposés of the sorry males whose testosterone glow went out a long time ago.

Today’s entrant to the pantheon of pathetic is a Facebook chatterer and a reminder why women are evolved to instantly assume the proto-Heisman blocking maneuver whenever they’re in the company of strange men who carry the stink of the undersexed:

Cute girls are at risk of acquiring omega male stalkers if they don’t nip their amorous wooers in the bud. This is why women have at their disposal an arsenal of shit tests and social shaming tactics. The former for those men who haven’t yet been identified for their mate worthiness; the latter for those men who have been deemed unworthy but lack the social savvy to know when to retreat. We men may not particularly enjoy having to hurdle the roadblocks that women put up on the path to sweet loving bliss, but the better of us should understand why those hurdles are necessary to women, and devise ways to circumvent them.

Besides the obvious if sick humor of it all, a couple of notable quotables jump out from the above one-sided exchange:

1. The guy violated just about every Poon Commandment. He quite spectacularly turned the Commandments on their heads. Commandment VIII took the worst beating; I half expected him to apologize for being born.

If you want to guarantee failure with women, read the Poon Commandments and do the opposite. This will ensure failure better than wearing a placard in public declaring your infidelity, buying flowers on the first date, or getting convicted of pedophilia.

2. As if we entered some bizarro universe where the sexual polarities are reversed, the girl replied in pictograms while the male wrote novellas airing his emotional laundry (and unused sperm-polluted mental health). Had the sexes been swapped in this exchange, I would be confident that these two were getting laid in the near future. But since the male has occupied the female role and the female the male role, there will be no sex.

3. Any man who thinks promising a woman that he “won’t take advantage of her” is the way to her heart is a power tool. Chivalry works in the abstract (specifically that abstract where unicorns are a possibility); in practice it’s an abysmal failure. A woman, if asked, will always say she wants a man “who respects her need to take it slow”, but in reality, where her words meet the unstoppable force of her tingles, a chivalrous gentleman’s pose is the equivalent of downselling: “Sure, this smartphone looks fast and functional, but it actually has parts made from Fisher Price toys. Try this cheapskate badboy clamshell over here instead.”

4. “Hows the pretty lady doin” could have worked as a funny opener if a parrot pictogram was appended to it, but midway through three weeks of unreciprocated Facebook self-immolation it’s the death warble of a man who’s forever been Pluto in women’s solar systems: A distant orbiter who barely qualifies as a space rock.

So here’s to you, “Hows the pretty lady doin” Man. Your travails are a life lesson in how not to act with women.

The Leftoid Media Lie Machine

As most CH readers are likely aware, mass media suppression of hatefacts has accelerated and intensified in recent years, with signs that 2014 will usher the Year of Crimethink Suppression. As a minor but telling example of the effort the liberal-owned-and-operated media industrial complex (aka the propaganda arm of the Cathedral) will go to maintain their Narrative and excise uncongenial facts from their copy, Mangan tweeted (can someone please create a social media platform with a manlier sounding name, ferkrissakes?) the following,

Dishonest, groupthink journalism: 98% of Stories Ignore That Ice-bound Ship Was On Global Warming Mission. http://newsbusters.org/blogs/mike-ciandella/2014/01/02/frozen-out-98-stories-ignore-ice-bound-ship-was-global-warming-missi

In the scheme of things, it’s a small “oversight” by the journalistic zero integrity clown show, (and ironic considering that global warming is the one liberal pet cause that is buttressed by at least some respectable science), but when you multiply this trivial slight against the truth by the millions of other big and little anti-white lies the Cathedral tells every hour and every day of the year, it becomes clearer that the American public is being deliberately lied to on a scale so massive it may dwarf in sweep and penetration the propaganda outlets of the totalitarian regimes of the 20th Century East.

Why do they lie? And why do they lie on such insignificant details, when telling the truth would seem to do them no harm? For answers, you need to get inside the heads of your Columbia Journalism School SWPL foes.

The Leftoid Media Lie Machine operates under the direction of two fundamental psychological processes that exist in every human being, but are especially pronounced in your typical leftoid: Ego preservation and status whoring.

Media mavens and liberal lickspittles alike fancy themselves the cognitive elite; they take pride in their smarts and their education. They are world class humblebraggarts and suck-up credentialists. Their insufferable ideology — a caustic mix of snarkism, childism and feelsism — is their coin of the realm, the barter they use to signal their smarts and to draw up cultural battle lines that give them tactical advantage. When their beliefs are challenged, as is becoming more their reality every day thanks to shiv masters like yours truly, they go into rabid attack mode, because a threat to their egos is like a threat to their bodies. The leftoid is nothing if he is not his glowing, pulsing ego. If the leftoid loses his Narrative prerogative, he may as well lose his reason for living.

And so the temptation to lie lie lie is strong in the leftoid when the truth begins to come out and undercut his manicured mental world and cherished self-conception as an enlightened and kind-hearted wunderkind. He responds to the crisis by working tirelessly to keep that Overton Window securely in his playing field. Three consequences of the threat against the leftoid’s haughty but paper-thin smugness then emerge:

1. The Cathedral suppression of truth will intensify as realization spreads among the true believers in the ranks that everything they’ve believed is a lie.

True believers hide contradicting facts from themselves as much as they do from others. This is an ego protection countermeasure. It isn’t logical, but it is human.

2. The ruling elite who are cynically aware of the truth but can’t escape their emotional attachment to their ideology or to status whoring on the backs of the wrong kinds of white people will encourage the lying as a tool of psychological and political warfare.

Cathedral leftoids loathe the idea that they might give aid and comfort to their non-leftoid enemies. In this scenario, they know the truth on some level, but refuse to acknowledge it (despite any journalistic ethical strictures commanding them to do so) because they believe acknowledging it will embolden and gird the spirits of those they consider horrible, no good people. To these leftoids, the prospect of Heartland Joe (Votech, Class of 1975) beaming with satisfaction that his intuition about the way the world works was right all along drives them insane with rage. Even worse, the thought that a sadistic demon like me would take an eviscerating scalpel to their egos armed with their de facto surrender papers keeps them awake at night in terror.

3. Slander, spying and sanitization will become the default actions of the liberal gatekeepers of discourse gaping ineffectually into the teeth of intractable social problems caused primarily by their own ideas and preferred policies.

Expect shitlib hysteria to reach epic contortions in the coming years, because it will be the only reaction they have left to assuage their fraying egos as the world they constructed falls to pieces around them. The more unsolvable the mass scale social problems become, the more readily leftoids retreat to shrieking bansheeism as a policy prescription and psychological balm.

In the end, the truth wins out. The question is whether it wins in the arena of genteel exchange of ideas, or it rises as the last man standing in a blood-soaked thunderdome.

More Evidence That Men’s Looks Don’t Matter As Much As Women’s Looks

The people demanded less opaque post titles, and the proprietors listened. Nestled in the abstract of a seemingly unrelated study about the genetics of sexual antagonism is a finding that men’s looks don’t contribute much to their overall attractiveness.

Genetic Factors That Increase Male Facial Masculinity Decrease Facial Attractiveness of Female Relatives

For women, choosing a facially masculine man as a mate is thought to confer genetic benefits to offspring. Crucial assumptions of this hypothesis have not been adequately tested. It has been assumed that variation in facial masculinity is due to genetic variation and that genetic factors that increase male facial masculinity do not increase facial masculinity in female relatives. We objectively quantified the facial masculinity in photos of identical (n = 411) and nonidentical (n = 782) twins and their siblings (n = 106). Using biometrical modeling, we found that much of the variation in male and female facial masculinity is genetic. However, we also found that masculinity of male faces is unrelated to their attractiveness and that facially masculine men tend to have facially masculine, less-attractive sisters. These findings challenge the idea that facially masculine men provide net genetic benefits to offspring and call into question this popular theoretical framework.

This is a surprise even to the viscounts of CH, who have stated many times that manly male looks play some role in attracting women, even if that role is diminished relative to the role that female looks plays in attracting men. This study, one that apparently contradicts the prevailing scientific wisdom, found that masculine male looks did not influence the attractiveness of those men.

The reasoning sounds solid; women who are attracted to masculine-looking men run the risk of having ugly, manjawed daughters by them, (cf. Amanjaw Marcuntte). Since women can’t legally pick and choose (yet) the sex of their babies, evolutionarily speaking it would be a huge risk to mate with a man of masculine appearance and bear masculine daughters who would be less reproductively fit than more feminine women, instead of bearing masculine sons who, putatively, would be more reproductively fit than less masculine men. Such a strategy, then, is a theoretical wash in genetic continuance terms.

CH is not prepared to call this study the final word on the subject of male looks and its apportioned influence in male mating success, but it is further confirmation of the CH principle that conventional male facial attractiveness is not nearly as crucial a variable in the romantic success of men as female facial attractiveness is to the romantic success of women. Women are, at a very primal level, attracted to a much larger (although still circumscribed) panoply of physical and character traits in the opposite sex than the relative paucity of female traits that exert a libidinous pull on men.

What this study helps explain is the odd phenomenon of soft, hipster cream puffs like Pajamaboy managing the task of getting girlfriends. (Not necessarily Pajamaboy specifically, but those chinless freaks like him who know how to twirl with pizazz.) A chipmunk-cheeked herbling with game and a cocky attitude can get laid, and this fact doubtless stokes the ire of chivalrous, white knighting manly men who swing axes instead of cocoa mugs.

The manly men can find romantic success, too… even better than the pajamaboys… but it helps their cause if they incorporate the precepts of game into their dealings with women. What is coming into focus is that women’s criteria for lovers is more context- and personality-dependent than men’s criteria, and the seed of that pasty herbling with the flair for flirting can produce some knockout daughters, if the chromosomal stars align.

Is A Blubbering Inner Party Leftoid Trying To Silence Chateau Heartiste?

News alerts over the Twitters reveal that a smug bearded mole allegedly within the WordPress organization has contracted the womanly vapors from reading Chateau Heartiste and is searching for remedies to make the hurty stop.

@alternatekev Hunting down cowards on the internet because they’ve just collided some worlds for me and they aren’t going to like it.

@jaydot https://heartiste.wordpress.com/2013/12/30/sociopathy-is-increasing-in-america/and http://www.returnofkings.com/24142/why-did-karl-halverson-pierson-attack-his-school-and-kill-a-pretty-girl

@jaydot if i find enough evidence of incitations for violence in the first link, I can have them removed from the internet.

We hear so much about liberal tolerance and open-mindedness, yet in practice it’s hard, and getting harder, to find actual examples of anything but the opposite behavior from these self-declared humanist champions of free expression. The typical liberal now is as much characterized by his quickness to silence dissent as he is by his weak jaw-concealing hipster cheek scruff and his ability to pass for a woman in a tasteful skirt. He’s not a subversive; he’s a schoolmarm.

For those wondering, this is how leftoid Cathedral media power operates when their first line of attack — an attempt at social shaming and ostracism — fails: Backroom machinations by a vocal and ideologically strident pro-goon contingent, protected by thick corporate layers of less strident but emotionally sympatico allies that vastly outnumber any opposition, leverages their power to cow resistance and control the discourse by literally censoring open inquiry and speech that upsets the delicate balance of their uterine flora. If @alternatekev at WordPress.com can’t win on the battlefield of ideas, well, he can always make the ridiculous claim that a post about possible increasing levels of sociopathy in America is an incitement to violence, and convince a few nerds in SysAdmin to burn the ASCII books. Problem solved, as Stalin might say.

WordPress is a great platform, and a model for other hosting companies. They have provided a free service that has fostered a true renaissance of ideas on the hallowed grounds of CH. One wonders if WordPress.com is aware that one of their employees is a gung-ho advocate of disappearing wordpress-hosted blogs for writing things that offend his exquisite sensibilities? I’m not a fly on the wall at WordPress headquarters, but I can’t imagine an employee so transparently antagonistic to the first principle of a company to expand the means with which free thinking men can communicate to the masses would be the sort of saboteur with whom the company wishes to associate.

So here we are, another mental manboob (and physical manboob, if you had to bet) thrilling at the prospect of executing his own private Watsoning to the hoots and hollers of his ignoramous leftoid compatriots, beaming ear to ear that he fights the good fight to squash truth-seeking for the cause of conformist cant. Stand proud, @alternatekev, for your struggle is the struggle of untold millions around the world who must suffer in silence the humility of reading stuff that turns them red in the face and incites them to hunt for the witch to burn.

What’s more to say? You sit in the driver’s seat, @alternatekev. Take your shot. Suppress or get off the pot. Victory is within your grasp.