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A bspencer Post that DOES NOT Reference Something 30-Years-Old

[ 26 ] July 26, 2014 |

Some of you may know that there is a new hashtag/tumblr site featuring women who are “against feminism.” But most of you probably didn’t know about Confused Cats Against Feminism. It’s as awesome as it sounds. Sadly, my cat is against feminism too. “Feminism” means my arm, right?

A Thing Somebody Actually Wrote

[ 75 ] July 26, 2014 |

Hey dude, if you’re going to go all leftier-than-though with me on the subject of sex work, you might wanna ease up on the word “whore.” 

This Just in: Grown-Ass Man Upset that Thor is Now Gross Girl

[ 204 ] July 22, 2014 |

John C. Wright is 54-years-old, which is why it is remarkable that everything he writes reads as if it were posted by a 14-year-old on 4Chan. With a well-thumbed Thesaurus. In fact, his posts are such a messed-up mashup of teen-trollery and florid pomposity I’m beginning to think he’s been punking us.

Ah, but the point of Political Correctness is not to tell a story and make it good, but to take a good story and ruin it.

Fanboys, I know, like looking at woman warriors that are leggy and busty and dress in skintight black leather.

But the important thing in combat is to show a lot of cleavage. I think it is fairly clear that the fanboys are not primarily attracted the heroic stature, muscles, strength, and manly chivalry of these woman warriors.

And if they absolutely, positively HAD to make Thor into a girl, why could Marvel not make her into a cheesecake girl in a chainmail bathing suit, as is the mighty Marvel tradition?

I’m now convinced that John C. Wright is a performance artist. Slow-but-steadily-building-clap for you, John C. Wright. You had us all fooled. 

Bonus points for referring to women as “she-soldiers.” The correct word is, of course, “soldiers.” Aww, but you knew that, you scamp.

It’s Archie and Betty and Veronica, Not Archie and Betty and Steve

[ 70 ] July 21, 2014 |

Via…

I have no idea what the Soviet talk has to do with anything, but then I rarely have any idea what the wingnuts are nattering on about.

 

In other news, my latest piece is up. It’s a been a long time.

Belated Creature Freature: Erik Loomis Edition

[ 45 ] July 20, 2014 |

Lionfish are super-cool looking– finny, stripy, and spiky. But, blah blah blah…they’re an invasive species and they’re eating their way through the Atlantic ocean. Their effect on coral reefs (major oceanic eco-systems) is potentially devastating. It’s all fin and games until somebody eats the entire ocean.  CNN has more.

The Pam Grier of fish

Much like Pam Grier*, Lionfish are beautiful but dangerous–their spines are venomous. However, they’re still edible, so some people have adopted an “eat ‘em to beat ‘em” attitude. And chefs from Nassau to New Haven have put them on the menu.

In summation: Lionfish are really awesome, but we need to kill as many of them as possible.

*To be clear, Pam Grier does not have venomous spines. THAT WE KNOW OF. Also, please do not eat Pam Grier.

John C. Wright is giving sex tips and it’s exactly as disgusting as it sounds

[ 216 ] July 19, 2014 |

But let us not pause to denounce sad falsehoods when the glorious truth beckons with her fiery lamp. How can one experience the perfect sexual experience?

Jesus Christ, this guy…

 In order to understand the perfect sexual experience, we first must say what sex is: it is copulation, the process by which two halves of a sexual whole find complement and completion, and reproduce. The sex act is the act of sexual union in sexual reproduction. The sexes, however, are spiritual rather than physical: men are masculine in psychology and mind and soul, masculine in speech and deportment and nuance in all they do just as women are feminine. The sexual union is spiritual, ordered toward the end of reproduction.

In other words, no gay-pill-buttsex.

Since sex is ordered toward reproduction, anything that hinders it is an imperfection. Prudence, if nothing else, would warn potential mother and potential fathers not to do the act which makes you a mother or a father until you have a household and loving union ready to rear children.

I don’t know this Prudence person is, but she sounds like kind of an asshole and maybe she should keep her fucking mouth shut.

If you are artificially sterile, or using contraception, you are holding back, you are not passionate about the sex, you are trying to use the sex rather than surrender to the sex.

You are trying to have sex without really having sex, and this alters your soul and body in countless subtle ways, and the woman knows it, and senses the mistrust, the misgivings, indeed, the fear — the nagging thought that the contraception might fail hangs across the passion and prevents total surrender to passion. And if she is using the pill, her hormones, the ones directly related to fertility, sex, sexual passion, and love have been interfered with. But even if she is not using the pill, she is using you and you are using her, trying to get the union of sex without the physical sex act and the physical results.

Thank you, Dr. John C. Wright!

The only way to make the contraception infallible is to agree to hinder the sex act by killing the child once he is conceived but before he is born, an act so horrific and unthinkable — even the Spartans did not make the baby’s own mother toss the helpless baby into the pit of the Apothetae — that no more need be said of it. If you doubt me, I’d like you to imagine holding your beloved in your arms, and whispering tenderly in her ear as the erotic passion mounts, “I love you and adore you and after I make mad, passionate love to you, we will kill Junior. We will kill him together! The doctor will pierce his delicate skull with scissors, and vacuum up his wee little brains!” — I am guessing that will kill the mood.

Right. We know what gets John C. Wright in the mood, don’t we? Lots of spittle-producing talk about those wanton, pill-popping liberal women and buttsexing men, I bet.

For her part, she must vow to love and honor and obey.

And if you do not understand about that obey part, you do not understand women. She wants a leader, an alpha male, a chief, a Christ, and you must be willing to die for her as Christ was willing to die for you, or she will not feel secure in your love. If she does not swear to obey, you are not a couple, not a dyad, not a unit, but are still two sovereigns dealing with each other at arm’s length, not intimate, and she cannot trust you fully, cannot love you fully, not with a divine and self-sacrificing love. And she knows you don’t love her fully, not with a love that is more than madness, more than sense, more than the universe.

Let the record show John C. Wright wants someone to obey him. Kinky.

Sex is spiritual because sex is divine.

OMG, John C. Wright only has one act, doesn’t he?! Sex is divine. Pooping is divine! Thomas Kincade paintings are divine! This soup is divine! My ass itches–HOW DIVINE!

Jesus Christ, this guy is a freak.

FROM THE COMMENTS!!:


You sir, are a modern Socrates! GREAT read!

Lefties Like Ugly Art Because Socialism or Something

[ 346 ] July 18, 2014 |

I was trying to think of a funny way to talk about John C. Wright’s latest meth-and-thesaurus-fueled word-vomit, but honestly I’m at a loss. So I’m just going to share a few passages with you and try to riff on them, knowing that my riffage cannot in any way compete with the florid pomposity  and TimeCube-level insanity of John C. Wright’s prose.

The jist of this “The Wright Perspective” (god, that name) is that people on the Left like ugly art, demand that people see the beauty  in ugly art, and also we’re creating ugly art so that people will be more amenable to peeing in cups. If this sounds insane to you, then good. I’m conveying what I want to convey to you in a concise manner. (Wright, please take note!)

To be a man means to seek a truth that satisfies the mind, a virtue that sates the conscience, and a beauty that breaks the heart. Deprive a man of any of these things, and he will find neither happiness nor rest.

And we’re off!

The most precious, profound and important of the great ideas which the Left has raped from us is beauty.

Suck it, Breitbart. It’s “Stop raping beauty from the people! Stop raping beauty from the people!” you’re supposed to drunkenly blog scream at Lefties. You did it all wrong.

Have you, dear reader, read anything discussing beauty, putting forth a coherent theory of beauty, or even extolling beauty’s central importance of the human soul in a year? In 10 years? Ever? This may be the only essay you will read on the topic this decade, and yet the topic is one of paramount importance. It is a matter of life and death not for the body but for the spirit


AND did you know that John C. Wright has many leather-bound books?

There is no discussion of it because by convincing the public that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, the Left has placed it beyond the realm of discussion. According to the Left, beauty is a matter of taste, and arbitrary taste at that. There is no discussion of taste because to give reasons to prefer tasteful to tasteless things is elitist, nasty, uncouth and inappropriate. To have taste implies that some cultures produce more works of art and better than others, and this raises the uncomfortable possibility that love of beauty is Eurocentric, or even racist. To admire beauty has become a hate crime.
I got nothin’.

If beauty is in the eye of the beholder, then anything, anything at all, can be declared to be beautiful merely by the artist. Like God creating light from nothing by the power of His word, the artist creates beauty not by any genius nor craftsmanship, but by his naked fiat. It is beautiful not because he actually created anything, but only because he says so.

By this logic, a urinal is beautiful, a light going off and on, a decapitated cow’s head covered in blood, flies and maggots, a glass of water on a shelf, a crucifix dunked in urine, a can of excrement, or an unmade bed. The argument given by the Left is that your inability to see the beauty in these things is due to your limitations, your untrained soul, your dullness. The argument merely ignores the fact that training the tastes to be dull, philistine and coarse is the opposite of training the tastes to be sensitive to beauty.

Here’s the thing: aside from this literary abortion being bugfuck INSANE, the premise of is is just wrong on its face. Yes, people create controversial, “ugly”art.  That’s because the purpose of art isn’t always to soothe. Sometimes people create art to shock or provoke thought. But nobody is forcing you to look at “Piss Christ” and declare it’s beautiful. Nobody’s expecting you look at a urinal and say “I want to hang that above my sofa.” In fact, I’d venture to say that most of the artists who create “ugly” art don’t want you to think it’s beautiful. When people make ugly art, the intent is not to desensitize; in fact, most often the intent is to jolt.

And, ya know, let’s not forget that for every lefty out there making ugly art, there’s a lefty out there making mundane, goofy, whimsical, innocent, bad, kitschy and, yes, beautiful art. The idea that there are armies of left-leaning people out there cranking out art that’s raping John C. Wright of his god-given right to beauty is just…I feel like I’m going to over-use this word…insane.

 

In that timeless moment of sublime rapture, the heart knows even if the head cannot put it into words that the dull and quotidian world of betrayal, pain, disappointment and sorrow is not the only world there is. Beauty points to a world beyond this world, a higher realm, a country of joy where there is no death. Beauty points to the divine.

Horseshit. Beauty points to the miraculousness of nature. If you need to look to the supernatural to feel awe, you are a broken person.

 

The Left hates this argument, because if beauty is not merely in the eye of the beholder, then beauty tells us what is a truth, a real truth, a truth from a world beyond the world of petty propaganda, a beauty beyond the world of pornography. The Left hates this argument, because if beauty is not merely in the eye of the beholder, then beauty is meant to be served, not used for your selfish pleasures. Beauty humbles the proud, for it shows them something beyond themselves and their appetites. And the left hates that.

If you’ve never felt wonderfully small while looking at the ocean, you haven’t lived. No divinity needed. And the idea of being lectured by the World’s Most Pompous Idiot on the virtue of humility is head-desking in its absurdity.

Do you think I am exaggerating? Do you think what we are dealing with is merely distaste or polite disagreement, and not hatred? Go into a modern art museum: look at the urinal, the severed cow head, the can of shit, the soiled bed. These are not the expressions of one or two aberrant individuals with psychological problems: this is the condition of our culture for nearly a century, an industry involving endless amounts of money public and private. This is the leadership of the artistic vision controlling our civilization, and the thing future archeologists will point to as the defining spiritual images of our times.

Why do they adore such imagery? That answer is not difficult: the desolation of ugliness aids the Leftist cause in a very real and very subtle way.

Imagine two men: one stands in a bright house, tall with marble columns adorned with lavish art, splendid with shining glass images of saints and heroes, mementos of great sorrow and great victories both past and promised. A polyphonic choir raises their voices in golden song, singing an ode to joy. The other stands in a slum with peeling wallpaper, or a roofless ruin infested with rats, hemmed by feces-splashed gray concrete walls lurid with jagged graffiti, chalked with swearwords and flickering neon signs advertising strip joints. Rap music thuds nearby, ear-splitting, yowling obscenities. A bureaucrat approaches each man and orders him to do some routine and routinely humiliating task, such as pee in a cup to be drug tested, or be fingerprinted, or suffer an anal cavity search, or surrender his weapons, or his money, or his name. Which of the two men is more likely to take a stand on principle not to submit?

Right. We want John C. Wright to like ugly art so he’ll become a slave to the State. He’s figured us out. It’s at this point when I start to think that even he knows he’s as full of shit as “The Holy Virgin Mary.” John C. Wrong? He’s just trolling. And it ain’t beautiful.

I’ll leave you with this:

If you see a sunset clothed in scarlet like a king descending to his empurpled pyre…

Bless his heart.

 

 

Maybe a Prize for Anyone–ANYONE–Who Can Figure Out What This MRA Commemorative Coin Design Means

[ 200 ] July 17, 2014 |

 

 

I’ll let Dave Futrelle take it from here…

Why Do All These Gay Guys Keep Sucking Rod Dreher’s Cock?

[ 244 ] July 16, 2014 |

Rod Dreher is confused. NO. Stop right there with your mean, snarky thoughts. I mean, he’s confused as to why he can’t oppress gay people because there are so few of them. I, for one, like this logic. There’s only one Rod Dreher…why can’t I go find him and punch him square in the face? Provided I can find him, as I imagine he’s hiding from gay people as I type this.

Conversations

[ 53 ] July 15, 2014 |

The following is a transcript of a short exchange I had with my son. It’s remarkable not just because it’s funny but because I think you could graft it on to the relationship Obama has with the Republican congress and it would still work perfectly.

Son (trying to sleep next to me): Mommy, quit making that noise!

Me: What noise? You mean my breathing?

Son: Yeah.

Would Bang: Storifyin’ the Horifyin’ Tom Junod Article

[ 35 ] July 12, 2014 |

Tom Junod is the Mother Theresa of boners.

This Belated Friday Creature Feature Creature Probably Won’t Swallow You Whole

[ 62 ] July 12, 2014 |

The Gulper Eel, also sometimes referred to as a “Pelican Eel,” is a weird deep sea eel with a big, wide hinged jaw. It’s quite a sight to behold.

I’ll let appropriately-named THE FUCKING OCEAN YOU GUYS take it from here.

Fun untrue fact: The character of Guy Smiley was inspired by the Gulper Eel.

Not a Gulper Eel

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