Once Again, Fuck the U.N.!

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Amidst all the usual bombings, bigotries, and bureaucracies that characterise modern life, it’s nice to have the odd thing to smile, if not outright belly laugh, about. Hulk Hogan’s financial ravishing of the sex-tape-leaking hacks at Gawker springs to mind, news of it giving me a raging schadenfreude stiffy a few weekends back. Prior to that, however, I found myself awed and amused by a bold show of defiance toward another organisation I hold in contempt—the United Nations.

Ostensibly formed as a global peacekeeping organisation in the wake of World War II, the United Nations, or U.N., has, over time, made it clear that the peace it means to impose on the world resembles the Pax Romana (or Pax Islama), mandated and managed by way of a top-down global hegemon.

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This was illustrated to me in glaring Technicolor back in 2009, when the U.N. Human Rights Council, at Pakistan’s behest, democratically declared “defamation of religion” to be a human rights violation, effectively endorsing every fatwa and blasphemy law decreed by mortal men. Who’d have thought that, all this time, Dar al-Saud were fighting for social justice one flogged apostate at a time? A lash to the back is a privilege well and truly checked!

Speaking of social justice warriors, I didn’t know whether to laugh or sigh when the organisation—as part of a gynocentric drive to muzzle opinions inflammatory to the ol’ femorrhoids—invited game-policing special pleaders Anita Sarkeesian and Zoe Quinn to mewl into a microphone about mean tweets and the existential threat they pose to women everywhere. Clearly, coddling a coven of censorship-friendly “fucking cunts”, to quote a formidably furious Mercedes Carrera, is just as pressing a priority as stopping Saudi stonings and forced child marriages, if not more so; I can still hear those September sobs, even as I type.

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With that precedent, the next thing to come to my attention hardly proved a great surprise, scorn-inducing though it was. Whilst browsing the social media feeds back in February, I cast eyes on a link from the Niche Gamer site detailing the U.N.’s latest liberticidal lunge:

The UN Committee on the Elimination of Discrimination Against Women (CEDAW), will be examining (SOURCE, our mobile URLs show up the same as regular text – working on a fix) Japan’s record on women’s rights.

The reason this has gotten onto our radar is that one of the possible talking points is the “banning of the sale of video games or cartoons involving sexual violence against women.”

The wording of the phrase could imply that they’ll be discussing banning eroge games like Rapelay (or other games of that nature), but with no clear guidelines as to what “sexual violence” entails, it feels like the definition can be used to include games that aren’t even eroge.

As expected, the readership of said site reacted with uproar at the possible intrusion upon their entertainment by questioning the priorities of the organisation, what with more severe ills infesting the global landscape.

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A glance at the U.N. commission report confirmed the corrosion running through the CEDAW cerebrum:

Among the possible issues for discussion between CEDAW and a delegation from the Japanese Government are:  Banning the sale of video games or cartoons involving sexual violence against women; employment equality, illegal dismissal of women due to pregnancy and childbirth; sexual harassment in the workplace; reintegration into school textbooks of issue of “comfort women”;  compensation for women with disabilities sterilised against their will; effect on women, particularly pregnant women,  of health programmes introduced after the Fukushima nuclear disaster; difference in pension benefits for men and women, poverty among older women.

In short, a few rapey pictures ‘n’ pixels constitute as much of an existential concern as poverty, irradiation, and forced sterilisation, in the mind of a CEDAW delegate: the kind of shitbrained sentiment which gets me thinking that a few forced sterilisations wouldn’t be such a horrible idea, applied to those jokers.

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All that said, my scorn elevated to schadenfreude upon reading the response of one Kumiko Yamada, representative of the Japanese wing of the Women’s Institute Of Contemporary Media Culture; unimpressed by the UN busybodies’ piss-poor priorities, she took it upon herself to remind the retards that the rapey goings-on in hentai and the like weren’t fucking real and thus constituted no threat whatsoever to living, breathing women; furthermore, she went one better by drawing attention to the female mangaka, and other creatives, who would likely be out of jobs (and on the street) as a result of the U.N.’s meddling:

If we are asked to consider whether “Protecting Women’s Rights in Japan” requires us to “Ban the Sale of Manga and Video Games Depicting Sexual Violence,” then we must reply that that is an absolute “no.”

Reasons for Our Opinion:

Reason #1 – The so-called sexual violence in manga and video games is a made-up thing and as such does not threaten the rights of actual people; therefore, it is meaningless in protecting the rights of women.

Reason #2 – In Japan, and especially when it comes to manga, these are creative fields that women themselves cultivated and worked hard by their own hand to create careers for themselves. If we were to “ban the sale of manga that includes sexual violence,” it would do the opposite and instead create a new avenue of sexism toward women.

[…]

As stated above, we cannot say that banning the sale of manga and video games that “depict sexual violence” is valid, even if we were to agree that the goal of protecting the rights of women is correct.

There is nothing to be gained from regulating fictional sexual violence. However, while you’re trying to fix the rights of fictional characters, you’re leaving the human rights of real women in the real world left to rot. As well, in Japan, the entire reason we have a media genre such as manga that developed to take on themes such as the sexual exploitation of women came from an attitude to tolerate “drinking the pure and the dirty without prejudice.” It’s because we had the freedom to express our views and with that to express the view of a world of humans that live and die, that there are pure and wonderful things and dirty and nasty things mixed with each other.

To put it more succinctly, Miss Yamada told the U.N. to suck a tentacled dick, burning their pathetic pornhibition attempts to ash like Hiroshima.

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The failure of the blue-helmet bluestockings to save cartoon cunny from a drawn demon dicking becomes all the more hilarious upon remembering the spate of rape scandals dogging their global “peacekeeping” efforts. Yes, “question and verify” still applies, even to the United Nations, but it’s rather telling that the wretched organisation initially suspended one of its own, Anders Kompass, for passing on reports of child sexual abuse by “peacekeepers” to the French authorities. With allegations of Nations noncing stretching decades back, to locales as diverse as Kosovo, DR Congo, Haiti, and Liberia, it wouldn’t surprise me if a raging inferno lay beneath the smoke (even bearing in mind that it’s not always the case); after all, don’t those who shout loudest often have the most to hide?

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I mean, when one’s already suspect stable of troops works alongside another group of “peacekeepers” accused of forcing the local girls to gape for canine cock, protesting against forced fucks of fiction serves as a cheap ‘n’ easy means of distraction; it certainly beats getting one’s house in order!

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For all the criticisms levelled at desert pirates Daesh, their M.O. seems to resemble the U.N.’s in several key ways, with its fatwa-friendliness, universalist aspredations*, and a heralded, hypocritical hard-on for pious prohibition and penile predation. If one didn’t know any better, it’d be easy to suspect the Muslim Männerbund of taking more than a few notes.

Have any sons, brothers, boyfriends, or any other males of note in your life? Be sure to shoot ’em a side eye should they suddenly develop a wanderlust-inducing fetish for burqas or blue helmets.

Then toss ’em a terabyte of tentacle porn so that they can stroke it well ‘n’ truly out of their systems.


ADDENDUM (5/4/16): It just came to my attention that the current chair of the U.N. is none other than one Faisal Bin Hassan Trad, ambassador for that Wahhabist desert paradise, Saudi Arabia; perhaps my Daesh analogy carries much more in the way of currency than I first thought! Granted, he’s only held the role since June, but quite a bit has taken place in his godridden land since then, including the lashing of liberal dissident blogger Raif Badawi.

Methinks the fuckery so far witnessed from this outhouse of an organisation won’t even touch that which is to come—assume that prayer position, infidels!

~MRDA~

*Aspredation = aspiration + predation (…or perhaps ass-spread-ation is apt?)

Posted in Animé, Civil Liberties, Gender Issues, History, Japan, Moral Panic, News, Politics, Religion, Retinal Reprobation, Sex | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Taking the Rapp: A Qualified Defence of Paedo Advocacy

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I first caught wind of Nintendo PR specialist Alison Rapp via a message thread in which someone linked to her blatherings on “intersectionality”; let’s just say I recoiled from the stink.

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However, my reaction to her wasn’t anywhere near as adverse as those more invested in the gaming world. As a result of her off-the-clock SJW sermonising and her on-the-clock employment at the the company’s Treehouse translation branch, already irate Nintendo patrons linked Rapp with the latest spate of “localisations” (read: censorship) imposed on Japanese games for Western markets, calling for her termination—post-haste!

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As if their perfectly rational smear-by-association wasn’t a strong enough cudgel, the baying gamer mobs soon happened upon a veritable Excalibur of an épée with which to skewer their scapegoat: the dread spectre of paedophilia. A number of hit pieces emerged against Rapp, their writers clutching pearls over what they described as her “advocacy” of kiddy-fiddling, and, again, calling for her firing. The furore even crossed over to this side of the pond, with trashy tabloid The Daily Mirror picking up on the story of the Nintendo paedo activist “who wears a ring through her nose” (the deviant!).

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In short, a group of anti-SJW gaming enthusiasts formed a virtual pitchfork-wielding mob in order to  drive an SJW out of employment for her unpalatable views, in a manner akin to, well…SJWs.

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So, what lies at the heart of this irefest? Where do these allegations of paedophilia advocacy come from? From the links and screenshots provided by Jim Kelly in the thinly-veiled smear piece which caught the Mirror’s attention, the chief components of this allegation consist of a paper by Rapp, published in 2011, arguing against pressuring Japan into toughening up its child porn prohibitions, and a series of tweets criticising age of consent laws which penalise adult/minor sexual relations.

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Whilst I can see how that would trigger those caught up in the perceptual pretzelisations of paedomania, I struggle to find much of anything to get worked up about. A reading of Rapp’s 2011 paper clarifies her stance on child porn for those of sufficient reading comprehension; while she sees the creation and distribution of live-action kiddy filth as “another matter entirely”, she likens penalising possession of it, and its cartoon counterparts, to be tantamount to thought-criminalisation. It’s a viewpoint I’ve encountered before, from thinkers as diverse as Libertarian Alliance director Sean Gabb and Pirate Party founder Rick Falkvinge, and one which, I think, has enough in the way of logic to warrant more than a reflexive dismissal of its proponents as Lostprophets frontmen (or Islamic icons) in the making. After all, viewing footage of infidel-beheadings, “witch”-burnings, and mob-meted murder hardly makes me a dogma-drunk lynch mobber—I’ll leave that shit to those who’d crucify Rapp and I for holding these opinions—so how does someone watching, or even owning, the worst kiddy porn automatically equate to, y’know, actually fucking kids (or even wanting to)? Perhaps the motivated incuriosity of the paedogeddon pushers simply makes some eager to find out what all the fuss is about. That or they just like looking at the pudenda of their pubescent peers.

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But such a defence fails to stand up in the face of this pretty little paedophilia advocate’s desire to lower the age of consent, allowing adults to actually fuck kids…right?

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Well, I guess…if your definition of “kid” or “child” is anyone under a state-decided age of majority rather than some primary-schooler yet to see her first cunt hair. Depending on the word-voodoo of the local legal codes, the scenario of an adult hooking up with, say,  a 16-year-old will either be seen by rulers and residents as totally kosher or a crime against God, Man, and the laws of nature. Those below the line of license, we’re told, lose all notions of agency and consent when faced with an amorous adult advance; thus, any coital contact between the two parties amounts to psychic, as well as physical, rape, what with teenagers being notoriously and categorically sex-averse.

Under this framework, Megan Stammers, the 15-year-old who ran off to France with her maths teacher, Jeremy Forrest, in 2013, was an unwilling abductee of a child, snatched from home and hearth by a libidinous predator. Many affirmed the narrative, casting Forrest as a “pervert”, “paedo”, and “nonce” as required; other concerns, such as the betrayal of the trust placed in him by his wife and employers, fell into near-obscurity.

More recently, footballer Adam Johnson found himself cast as a kiddy-fiddler for engaging in off-pitch ball games with another 15-year-old; such was his predatory prowess, he even had his “victim” bragging about her ordeal—back of the net!

Although I struggle to see why any adult male would go out of his way to exchange words, never mind bodily fluids, with teenage girls, given how annoying they tend to be (neotenic appeal only goes so far, fellas!), I struggle harder to see said teens as anything other than complicit in such couplings. Prizing consistency, I generally view such hook-ups as no worse than the tide of teen-male-fucks-female-teacher stories deluging the press, the very same stories which inspire high-fives from those who kvetch about “the CHILD” and “that fucking nonce” once the genders flip. As obnoxious as she can be, Katie Hopkins’ assessment of the Johnson case strikes me as much closer to the truth than all the herd-animal hand-wringing over “grooming” and “child abuse” (Stefan Molyneux, eat your heart out!).

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(As a side note, I wonder how many of the “anti-SJWs” out to ruin Rapp for acknowledging adolescent agency criticised those who kicked up a stink over the late David Bowie’s decades-ago dalliances with underage groupies a month of two back. Hypocrisy can be a helluva drug!)

With all that in mind, it’s almost tragicomic that I find the SJW “p(a)edophile advocate” the more sensible, less retarded party in this dispute; her “anti-SJW” detractors come off as rabid fanatics, afflicted by sloppy inferences, mind-mangling moral panic, and a  hotheaded herd mentality; all less-than-endearing qualities around these parts, not to mention amusingly reflective of those they claim to oppose.

With her working for a censor-happy branch of a major games company and being—despite her own thoughtcrime—a card-carrying SJW, there might indeed be a case for her as a self-undermining hypocrite, doing much more than PR for Treehouse’s truncated “translations”.

Such a shame that the pitchfork posse fail to make it.

~MRDA~

Posted in America, Civil Liberties, Culture, Entertainment, Gender Issues, Libertarianism, Moral Panic, Retinal Reprobation, Sex | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Listen and Believe?

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Seasons may come and go (and come again), but a timely convergence will never get altmodisch.

Last weekend saw an outpouring of grief and obits in response to the death of Harper Lee, esteemed author of the acclaimed and adapted novel To Kill a Mockingbird; much of said acclaim for her brainchild no doubt arises from its theme of fighting for justice in the face (and a place) of entrenched and vehement prejudice, a theme to which any so-called “social justice warrior” can signal solidarity.

Speaking of such, the same weekend saw an outpouring of outrage in reaction to pop starlet Kesha’s claims of contractual and coital coercion at the hands of her producer, one Lukasz Gottwald, more commonly known as “Dr Luke”. Predictably, a swarm of SJW social-media solidarity glommed around her, urging those with the power to #FreeKesha, and all and sundry to take Kesha’s word on the matter as holy writ.

From my somewhat limited reading of this case, it looks like a long and messy battle over contractual constrictions, spanning a number of years. One could make the argument that having entered into said deal voluntarily, Kesha has the obligation to honour its terms as agreed; one could also make the argument that, to quote John Badcock, “the binding power of a promise has limits”, that what may have been to mutual benefit today may become decidedly lopsided tomorrow, necessitating a rearrangement, or severance, of terms. Both viewpoints have their merits and, in some cases, may even be reconcilable.

What I’ll never see merit in, however, is the wretched line of thought best exemplified by the inane SJW slogan “listen and believe”.

I mean, I understand why otherwise well-meaning everypeople might be tempted to do just that in regard to allegations of “misogyny”, “sexism”, and all, what with being deluged with torrid testimonials, sloppy stats, and Lifetime lamentations asserting the radical notion that women are perpetual victims. Couple that with the overwhelming (and ever-replicating) urge to breed, the relative statistical neoteny of the double-x demographic, and the propensity of the average homo (non)sapiens to respond to feels over facts, and it’s pretty much a foregone conclusion that folk who can’t see will just herd.

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However, when it comes to those who aspire to be more than bipedal bovines, who actually give a fuck about weird concepts like “justice” and “due process”, I’m audacious enough to expect more in the way of rigour, scepticism, and critical thinking. Take Kesha’s claims that Dr Luke force-fucked her whilst pinning her down in a contractual chokehold: her own words in a previous out-of-court testimonial call the veracity of her current claims into question, with the singer stating that Luke made no sexual advances toward her, never mind roofies and rape.

Of course, alternative explanations for this discrepancy have been offered. Stockholm Syndrome. An overdeveloped sense of obligation. Capitulation to threats made by the good (?) Doctor. Indeed, any or all of these motives could’ve given rise to her previous protestations, and the fact that said testimonial hit the press in an edited form further fuels the aforementioned speculations. Whatever stance one takes on the matter, I think it safe to say that she’s lying about something, making the whole listen-and-believe proposition all the more laughable.

Insensitive? I’m too amused to give a fuck, especially given that those who espouse the sentiment flagrantly disregard it when it runs counter to their narrative, subjecting denial to far more in the way of scrutiny than affirmation. Having recently seen this dynamic play out elsewhere, the tragicomedy certainly isn’t lost on me.

My bitter laughs intensify upon contemplating the grand feats of social justice these hectoring herd animals could achieve if only their words were heeded more readily:

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My, my…what does that remind me of?

Ah, yes…

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If anyone can explain how the mobs who murdered/condemned Will Brown and Tom Robinson weren’t the finest, most proactive examples of Listening Believers, I’m all ears; their modern-day Twitterati counterparts have quite a way to go to top those epic feats!

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As for myself, I’ll take “question and verify” over “listen and believe” as an operating slogan, whether the topic be Keshagate, Cologne, Jimmy Savile, Rotherham, or any other media panic, rape-related or otherwise. Opting for light over heat, epoché over emotionalism, reflection over reaction, and hard fact over herdsteria may not accrue clicks, insta-gratification, or even anything approaching a clear answer; it may accrue me a reputation as a “denier”, “rape apologist”, and other such sweet nothings; hell, I may even fall short more than a few times, despite my best intentions. Still, I think it worth a shot: sure beats the asinine alternative!

~MRDA~

Posted in Culture, Gender Issues, Moral Panic, News, Politics, Racial Issues, Religion, Sex | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Obliterating Oblomov: MRDA@CurrentYear.com

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A month into 2016 C.Y, and I finally see fit to relight the fire of this long-unkindled Inferno. I’d planned to knock something together a little earlier to mark the transition into the new 365-day calendar cluster, but a combo of preoccupation and inertia put paid to that plan. During my period of near-Oblomovian despair and disrepair (punctuated by a stint or several at the gym, thank fuck!), quite a lot took place. The resident grinches of Dar al-Islam saw fit to ban Christmas in both Brunei and Somalia; New Year’s Eve saw celebrations get very much out of hand—or, rather, in hand—in cities across Germany, with the bulk of media coverage (which started days after the fact) focused on the fondlecaust in Cologne; Obama turned out an Oscar-hungry performance, squeezing forth  a press-conference tear for child victims of gun crime (whilst remaining dry-eyed over drone-bombing kids half a world away); rock icon David Bowie—along with a who’s who of other prominent celebs—succumbed to the big C, eliciting a cavalcade of commentary, both interesting and insipid; the Zika virus made its presence sorely felt in Latin America, resulting in the striking spectacle of heads of state telling their subject populations not to breed; a career of rape, genocide, and terrorism with desert pirates Daesh became significantly less lucrative due to pay cuts; and I had a good laugh at their enablers in Dar al-Saud telling UK critics to “respect” the death penalty in their god-pozzed shithole of a nation….weeks after calling presidentially-aspiring billionaire blowhard Donald Trump “a disgrace to America” for his Islam-averse immigration proposal: “Stop kill-shaming us, Britlords!”

Oh yeah…let’s not forget the current campaign to castrate Jonathan Swift (and his fanboys) for his “modest proposal”.

In short, how can I stay inert when there’s a whole wide world out there to hate?

Whilst I’m pretty pleased with last year’s output, various distractions kept me from writing as frequently as I wanted, resulting in me falling short of the goals I set myself last January; as such, I see the current year as more of a continuation than a fresh start, moving more in the direction decided in the previous solar orbit. Expect me to tear into both the political class and public as the need and mood arises, with the jeremiads, invectives, and philippics you, my readers (all five of you), know and love (or hate: masochism can be a helluva drug). As ever, I’ll happily challenge, critique, and even clawhammer the wonky ways ‘n’ whys of god, man, and beast…including the worldviews of those (un)near and dear to me.

Alongside all that, I’ll toss in some reviews and overviews of things I like, whether they be books, movies, series, or that really tasty kebab I had from the local (and not-so-local) eatery; and as for dusting off my more creative chops—watch this space!

My overarching credo for 2016: to set Obmolov’s bed aflame—and properly this time!

~MRDA~

Posted in News, Personal, Philosophy, Poetry, Politics | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

Halal & Hypocrisy XIII: Remove Kebab?

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The south of France, and one man finds himself deeply disenchanted by the culinary delights on offer in his locale. So much so, in fact, that he took to the press, voicing his determination never to let another kebabish open in his town again.

Lushes and reprobates – I give you Robert Ménard: ex-secretary general of press freedom group Reporters Sans Frontières and currently disgruntled mayor of the supposedly shish-saturated town of Béziers. This blowhard first came to my attention a couple of weeks back, when I read about his distaste for döner at the Daily Sabah. Already something of a national celebrity for his animus towards Allahphiles—making a point of illegally collecting stats on Muslim schoolkids and personally declaring Syrian refugees in his town persona non grata—the somewhat megalomaniacal mayor now wants to obstruct the opening of any further lamb-spit houses in his locale.

Reading about this reminds me of one reason I kickstarted this series-within-a-series known as ‘Halal & Hypocrisy’: to shine a spotlight on those for whom fighting the Islamification of the Western world serves as a Trojan Horse for their own liberticidal bullshit. Whilst I may not be thrilled about the concept (and existence) of borders (at least not on a nation-state level), I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have some sympathy for those who view them as a means of preserving treasured cultural and civil liberties—not to mention life and limb—in their lands (a la the late Pim Fortuyn). That said, I find it tragicomic how fervently those of such a persuasion appeal to the very institutions responsible for their malaise to make everything alright, especially when the latter either double down with a “solution” that further feeds the beast or take it as an opportunity to play bait ‘n’ switch by adding their own encroachments.

Ménard certainly fits the bill of the latter type of “saviour”, dragooning in a bunch of petty prohibitions on the back of some Saracen-smiting crusade. During his time in office, our hero-in-his-own-mind has imposed a curfew on Béziers’ younger residents, penalised public spitting (probably after taking a few gobfuls to the face), and even gone as far as to criminalise the airing of one’s laundry. All in the service of a reified, ossified concept of “French culture”, which he happily imposes on the actually existing cultural environment, like a hyperactive child with a new playset.

Then again, at least pleasure animates the puer at play; with his determination to dam the döner tide, this Ménard motherfucker signals and solidifies his credentials as a man who disdains the very concept of joy.

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Still, I suppose his joyless jihad amounts to more fun than addressing the town’s decades-long mass unemployment; it might explain his shift from socialism to the kind of rightist rabble-rousing that makes his friends in Front National sound decidedly middle-of-the-road.

How ironic that Monsieur Ménard, a particularly uncatholic Catholic, resembles the Jacobin “ayatollahs of secularism” he decries, by way of his top-down cultural Procusteanism.

Then again, that this townhall tyrant has a decidedly limited radius of authority counts as something of a small mercy; going by the sentiments he shared regarding torture in 2007, giving him Hollande levels of authority could prove potentially…interesting, for all the wrong reasons. A rather sloppily translated piece from Global Research turns out the following from his RSF days:

During the radio program “Contre-expertise” hosted by Xavier de la Porte on France Culture, August 16, 2007, Robert Ménard, the self-proclaimed defender of human rights and journalists, followed the steps of his sponsors and legitimized the use of torture, saying some extremely alarming things. Evoking the murder of U.S. journalist Daniel Pearl, he emphasized that it was legitimate to torture suspects in order to save the life of innocents, reviving the argument of the most horrifying dictatorships and, of course, of the Bush administration(8).

Ménard goes further since he even legitimizes the use of torture against family members of kidnappers, that is against innocent people. “If my daughter were kidnapped, there would be no limit, I’m telling you, I’m telling you, there would be no limit on torture.”

Kinda makes me wonder if he’d advocate skewering kidnappers’ families on spits, slicing them to the bone, layer by layer, like so:

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It’d certainly fit the profile of the type of prat who, in railing against inimical Islamic infiltration, displays a distinct deficiency in discerning döner dealers from Daesh:

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On reflection, however, I probably could do with cutting Ménard a slice of slack myself, seeing as I find it increasingly harder to discern his mindset from that of a jihadi terrorist who shoots up a music venue in the name of his constricted concept of life. Both despise joys inaccessible to them, and have no problem letting the Other know it with force, whether wielded directly or by degrees of separation.

In their insistence on pushing their pet preferences on the unwilling, both betray a certain uncertainty regarding the ability of that which they treasure to transcend boundaries in an organic fashion; that is, despite ostensible differences, they share the same fundamental lack of faith in their cultural (and culinary) wares as the pandering progressives they no doubt despise.

Perhaps Ménard and friends could take some sales and presentation tips from their local döner dealers—it’d certainly be an improvement over their current form!

~MRDA~

Posted in Civil Liberties, Culture, Economic Issues, Halal & Hypocrisy, Moral Panic, News, Personal, Politics, Religion | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Max Stirner Contra Humanism and Nationalism

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A favourite excerpt of mine from my favourite philosophical tome, The Ego and Its Own. Kinda supports my observation of nationalism and the ilk being humanism writ small (and, conversely, humanism being an expanded nationalism, both assuming an intrinsic worth and obligation in shared proximity, phenotype, planet, etc).

~MRDA~


Ridiculous is he who, while fellows of his tribe, family, nation, rank high, is – nothing but “puffed up” over the merit of his fellows; but blinded too is he who wants only to be “man.” Neither of them puts his worth in exclusiveness, but in connectedness, or in the “tie” that conjoins him with others, in the ties of blood, of nationality, of humanity.

Through the “Nationals” of today the conflict has again been stirred up between those who think themselves to have merely human blood and human ties of blood, and the others who brag of their special blood and the special ties of blood.

If we disregard the fact that pride may mean conceit, and take it for consciousness alone, there is found to be a vast difference between pride in “belonging to” a nation and therefore being its property, and that in calling a nationality one’s property. Nationality is my quality, but the nation my owner and mistress. If you have bodily strength, you can apply it at a suitable place and have a self-consciousness or pride of it; if, on the contrary, your strong body has you, then it pricks you everywhere, and at the most unsuitable place, to show its strength: you can give nobody your hand without squeezing his.

The perception that one is more than a member of the family, more than a fellow of the tribe, more than an individual of the people, has finally led to saying, one is more than all this because one is man, or, the man is more than the Jew, German, etc. “Therefore be every one wholly and solely – man.” Could one not rather say: Because we are more than what has been stated, therefore we will be this, as well as that “more” also? Man and Germans, then, man and Guelph? The Nationals are in the right; one cannot deny his nationality: and the humanitarians are in the right; one must not remain in the narrowness of the national. In uniqueness the contradiction is solved; the national is my quality. But I am not swallowed up in my quality – as the human too is my quality, but I give to man his existence first through my uniqueness.

History seeks for Man: but he is I, you, we. Sought as a mysterious essence, as the divine, first as God, then as Man (humanity, humaneness, and mankind), he is found as the individual, the finite, the unique one.

I am owner of humanity, am humanity, and do nothing for the good of another humanity. Fool, you who are a unique humanity, that you make a merit of wanting to live for another than you are.

Posted in Egoism, Philosophy, Politics, Texts of Interest | Tagged , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

Either Way, It’s American Displacement Day

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Yesterday yielded another round of commotion regarding the infamous Christopher Columbus, designated “discoverer” of the so-called “New World” (Leif Erikson moans from Midgard!). No doubt, the less-than-vocal majority of Statesiders were simply thrilled to get a day off from work; the more vocal, however, reheated their rancour over the late Double-C’s conquering, raping, enslaving ways, wishing instead for an “Indigenous Peoples’ Day” to displace the dastard. Not surprisingly, this generated a bit of an uproar from the more reactionary elements of the World Wide Web, who predictably countersignalled in favour of Columbus.

Now, on October 13th, 2015, I sit here typing this whilst high (or, rather, low) on my favourite empathy-suppressant. Clearly, it’s a shitty batch, what with me feeling somewhat sympathetic to the prog pouting over this issue. Going by several accounts of his exploits, Columbus and his crew were certified cunts, engaging in kidnapping, murder, rape, and kiddy sex slavery, amongst other fun activities; all this after being, by CC’s own account, warmly welcomed by the Amerindian tribes who would become their all-purpose prey. Taking that into account (plus the fact he never actually set foot on the North American mainland) it does seems rather grotesque of Statesiders to dedicate a day of pomp and pageantry to his “discovery”; kinda like “Good War” enthusiasts fellating Bomber Harris for raining down death on civilian populations.

That said, I find the desired (and partially realised) replacement of the occasion with an Indigenous Peoples Day to be sublimely silly and short-sighted. For all the shit suitably slung the way of Columbus, Cortez, and all the other Christians who murdered Indians, they were but the most proximate of predators on the calendar of conquest. A decade ago, I stumbled upon a rather illuminating piece of historical revisionism on the late and lamented Loompanics site; its author, Bill Wilson, made the case that those favoured by the IPD-endorsers had encountered and erased a preceding population of decidedly different descent:

Unlike contemporary Indians, these fossilized remains bear no resemblance to modern Mongoloid people. That fact is vitally important to the point of this article. Genetic and other testing long ago proved that the Cherokees, Navajo, Creek, and other tribes are descendants of Asian population groups.12 In light of recent evidence, their claims to be the “original” Americans rests on faulty ground indeed.

Even more disturbing for the PC crowd is what the rock art of these “Australian Americans” record. Cave paintings made at the same time that Asiatic people begin to appear in the region show scenes that are radically different from those made prior to their arrival. Images of serene and playful village life give way to drawings of executions, warfare and outright slaughter, scenes that only appear after the arrival of the Asiatics. These drawings correspond to discoveries of skulls in the fossil record that for the first time show Mongoloid characteristics.

The inference is clear: When the Asians began to arrive in the area, they began a bloody and violent crusade against the people already living there. This genocidal campaign continued until the aboriginal people disappeared from the fossil record. From nine thousand to seven thousand years ago the skeletal remains shifted from being exclusively Negroid to exclusively Mongoloid. Combined with the bloody scenes appearing in the cave paintings at the time, the fossil records reveal a disturbing fact: The true first Americans were wiped out by the people who now claim that title.13

Needless to say, the probability of the first Americans being Australian made the history of the “New World” all the more fascinating for me, with subsequent spotlight-shining bringing the proposed proceedings ever closer to high-definition (and much closer to an actual discovery than anything Columbus carried out). To quote Gregory Cochran’s overview of the most recent papers

The background fact is that the earliest skeletons, especially in Brazil, look like Australo-Melanesians.  Long skulls.  If population Y were almost entirely standard Amerindian, with only a smidgen of Australo-Melanesian ancestry, they would have looked like Amerindians.  On the other hand, if the original settlers of the Americas were mostly or entirely Australo-Melanesian (or more exactly something vaguely related to those existing populations) they would have those long, narrow skulls.  This is the Paleoamerican model – and if true, it means that an Onge-like population arrived first, and that the incoming Amerinds almost completely wiped out them out later,  with here and there a bit of admixture.

With this noted, it’s worth asking the pro-IPD crew: Which indigenous peoples do you seek to honour? Given the ignorance and motivated incuriosity on this topic, it’s safe to say it ain’t the Australoids!

Me being me, I can’t help but laugh at those who call out one violent, barbarous displacement by unwittingly enshrining — by way of overgeneralisation — the architects of another. I can only imagine the mass mind-mangling, in the event of the “Paleoamerican model” gaining ground in mainstream discourse.

If the proverbial Sins of the Father apply to those who share Columbus’ continental descent, do today’s Amerindians need to be walking and wailing an eternal Trail of Tears for the actions of ancestors long dead? Hell, if one subscribes to the concepts of intergenerational guilt and collective blame, wouldn’t it make sense to see the rape, murder, and enslavement of Columbus’ hosts as just deserts for the massacre of the Melanesians?

Not subscribing to such sentiments, I’d prefer to see October the 12th commemorated as ‘Let the Dead Bury the Dead Day’, with the descendants of both displacements figuring out less acrimoniously atavistic ways to coexist on this planet. I’d also tell those caught up in such concepts to wash the blood and spooge off their well-wrung hands, but that presupposes such being on them in the first place.

In any case, I suspect this sorry series will run for a few more seasons yet. Tune in for next year’s aggravating episode, I guess….

~MRDA~

Posted in America, Biorealism, Entertainment, History, Perspectivism, Politics, Racial Issues, Society | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 6 Comments