Tuesday, August 15, 2017

Fight Them Back

"If you fight them back, you're giving them what they want."

No we're not. What they want is for us to die. They do not want a fight.

Can they spin our self-defense into a narrative of us being the violent ones? They already have. They can do that regardless.  So what if we look like the bad guys? This isn't an election, or a game, or a contest.

In fact, they're perfectly happy with you perpetuating the myth that we are all the same. This doesn't stop them. It encourages them. They were ecstatic that the president laid blame on "many sides."

They don't care about looking like the good guys. But they know that you do, and they use that against you. This is how they control the dialogue. Any arguments pertaining to free speech are superfluous and unnecessary. Their speech is not threatened. Hence, we're learning who they are. What is threatened, however, is the existence of a platform. They purposely conflate speech with a platform, and liberals have allowed them to do this. If Milo Yiannopoulos' First Amendment rights are being violated every time he is uninvited from speaking at a college campus, then you and I are owed some fat speaking fees from every university in America (unless you, dear reader, have actually been paid to speak at a college campus. In which case, just cross that one off your list, and send invoices to all the rest). You know, because of the Constitution.

Free speech does not mean freedom from consequences. It does not mean freedom from shame. However, avoidance of shame and responsibility is the core of the alt-right's ideology. They pervert the language of progress for the perpetuation of this worldview. This is where "reverse racism" comes from. "You're the real fascists." If you tend to agree with me, according to Dave Rubin, you belong to the "regressive Left." He uses this term so frequently, you'd think it were a safe word given to him by his alien overlords only to be used when the pressure of appearing as a rational, compassionate human has become too great.

They desperately want to appear to be victims, so at the very least they are still given a seat at the table by otherwise liberal-minded people. On some level, however subconsciously, I think a lot of them realize they're not genuinely oppressed. Surely this dawns on you while you're beating someone with a tiki torch (that you bought) and the cops merely watch. But they prey upon feelings of inadequacy to grow their ranks. When they say "white genocide," what they mean is miscegenation. When they say "defend the white race," what they mean is genocide. This never stopped being a source of inadequacy (that being black men fucking the shit out of white women, and ostensibly actually bringing them to orgasm) among American white men, we just stopped calling it miscegenation.

Another tactic continued from the days of Jim Crow is that of dividing the working class by racial lines. They want you, economically anxious, rural white laborer, to believe your anxieties and your failures are the fault of "the other." This "other" is someone who always has more in common with you than the actual source of your poverty, which are the wealthy elite. From the steel mills of 19th-century Alabama, to the musky basements of modern day Kekistan, white supremacy is perpetuated by misdirected, deadly racial anger.

These are people who think that being yelled at is violence worthy of physical retaliation. They think, because one of their troll idols isn't entitled to fat speaking checks from public universities, that they are being censored. They think, because a community that they don't belong to decided it had enough of a confederate relic, that their history is being erased. They think that mixed babies are white genocide.

They are dishonest as a rule. They are Nazis. Of what value is placating them?

If fighting them back makes us just as bad, then what are you going to do about it?

Wednesday, March 22, 2017

Give Terrorists More Fun Weapons

You'd think preventing terrorists from more easily accessing assault weapons would make them more creative in their terrorism. Alas! Same shit, different year. Cars, knives, handguns, blah! Boring.

Maybe we, as the United States, should arm them (yes, arm the terrorists) in such a manner that actually inspires some fucking artistry. Sure, more people would probably die, but it's not like they're not all killing each other anyway (am I right, folks who justify genocide of indigenous peoples?).

After all, arming terrorists is an American tradition. Hating and inflicting violence on strangers is as British as fish n' chips. And you know what? At most, three people died at Westminster today (as a result of the terrorism. [I'm not sure what the stats are throughout the rest of London, because, like, who gives a flying fuck? Right?]). How are we supposed to whip up a fun and frothy refugee-employing Starbucks latte of xenophobic fear if the death tolls are so low?

So I say let them go bananas. Hell, arm them with bananas. Not just individual slippery Mario Kart-style banana peels, but literally tons (tonnes? [we're all British today]) of bananas. Can you imagine being crushed to death by bananas? That shit would truly be b-a-n-a-n-a-s.

You may think that this is a little crass, or possibly an overreaction. But Europe is already done for anyway (at least according to people who've accidentally permanently lodged their heads up their asses in the search for their one true source of identity: genitals). Why not allow mother Europe to go out with a bang, as opposed to a very cuck-like whimper? You wouldn't want to be a cuck. Right, faggot? 

So there's gotta be a cheat code someone somewhere can use that will unlock the CIA's secret terrorist weapon stash.


Europeans are commies!

That should do the trick!

Go get 'em, CIA.

Credit: IGN/Nintendo

Maybe we *should* give them Mario Kart weapons!

Monday, February 27, 2017

I'm Pretty Sure I'm Garbage


My name is Benjamin. I'm a 27-year-old single white male.

I was born into a life of privilege. I don't think I've wasted it, but I'm still pretty sure I'm a garbage person.

I am terrible at keeping in touch. Friends and colleagues send me things. They send me letters, postcards, and presents. I send nothing in return. I've had people in my life beg me to keep in touch, and I've not followed through. To be fair, some of those people could be doing more on their end, but we're not here to talk about them.

And that's another reason I'm garbage. We're not here to talk about anyone else. We're not even here to talk. I'm writing to you. You're reading what I'm writing. You're thinking of a response. You're not responding because you either want to see where this goes or you don't think it's worth it.

Most people, when they disagree with me, don't immediately vocalize it. That would be the healthy thing to do. Friends, coworkers, roommates, etc. have consistently repressed their opposition to me. It almost always eventually comes to a boil.

Again, it's my fault. I surround myself with people who are too kind or cautious to immediately express their disagreement with me.

Or a majority of you are cowards.

But who am I to even suggest such a thing?

At this point I'm probably coming across as sarcastic. I swear, I'm being sincere. If I weren't such utter garbage, you'd take seriously my pleas for sincerity.

I get frustrated by texts and phone calls. Okay, at least (as far as the latter is concerned) I'm not usually receiving a phone call from a friend, but most likely from an employer or someone who wants money from me. No one looks forward to such conversations. But my aversion to texts and Facebook messages is inexplicable.

I'd go on, but I have to go to work.

I'm putting off writing to go get paid to do something that isn't writing. And that's yet another reason I'm pure filth. Setting aside my passion for profit is something I swore I'd never do, but my stomach demands it. Pure id, this stomach of mine.

Monday, February 6, 2017

Tiny Bubbles (The Yelling)

I think this is my third post with "bubble" in the title. We've gone from art bubbles, to bubble butts, and now socio-political bubbles.

If that's all it takes for you to immediately close your browser window on this post, I don't blame you.

But I digress. I acknowledge readily that I do live in a kind of bubble. This was made most apparent to me by the election. No, not the general election. I'm talking about the primaries, and how Hillary Clinton did extraordinarily well in Florida. All projections, polls, objective analysis, history, and everything I already knew from having lived there for six years pointed to a Clinton victory. But I still know a lot of people who live in Florida, and I'd have been hard pressed to use more than one hand to count the amount openly supporting Clinton in the primary.

Sanders' loss in Florida was not surprising, but the margins were. Ergo, I live in a Bernie-crat bubble. I live in a Bernie bubble geographically, of course. But also socially.

However, this does not preclude my ability to see beyond my bubble. The suggestion that I cannot see beyond my big-ass bubble is becoming insulting. I was born and raised in Berks County, Pennsylvania. I've lived within spitting distance of the Amish and Mennonites (we didn't have as many as Lancaster, Lebanon, or York, but they weren't far away either). I grew up wrestling, and playing football and baseball. My existence was purely suburban. It was not as blue collar as that of the coal crackers, whose signature wrestling maneuver was the "cement mixer" (I think mid-westerners call it a "steam roller"). But I sure as hell was not some kind of coastal elite (or at least not yet? It depends on who you're asking).

Before the start of my senior year of high school, my football team went to training camp at the University of Pennsylvania. Its Ivy League campus is located in Philadelphia. When the camp coaches were giving us a tour of the campus, they explained to us how traffic lights and walk buttons worked, and reminded us that things were "different" in the big city.

Well, yes and no.

My point is that the last two states I've lived in went red in the election. I was not surprised by this. Disappointed? Yes. Especially in Pennsylvania. I've lived in Portland for a little over a year. I haven't magically forgotten what life is like elsewhere. I haven't suddenly stopped hearing conservative voices. The angry voices are everywhere. They are loud, after all.

I advocate for intersectional progressivism. Race, gender, sexuality, ability, and class are all intertwined. Yeah, Democrats need to do more to reach out to working class Americans. But working class Americans need to stop shitting themselves every time an opportunistic blowhard writes off something beneficial as "socialism."

Saturday, December 31, 2016

I Feel an Ever Widening Gulf Between Us

A revolutionary bangin' on my adversaries
And I love Dr. King but violence might be necessary
'Cause when you live on MLK and it gets very scary
You might have to pull your AK, send one to the cemetery. 

I keep imagining a scenario wherein a man goes into a corporate job interview wearing an Eyes Wide Shut t-shirt. When asked by his obviously flustered potential employer, "Why in God's name are you wearing that, boy?" He responds, "I JUST LOVE THE CORPORATE LIFESTYLE!"

We all act like this confused interviewee as we construct our identities, especially on the internet. There exists an entire political identity based around opposing identity politics. Here there is no why.

I do not exclude myself from my own criticism. This is something that self-aware people need to make clear to people who are not so self-aware, lest offense is taken. #NotAllDumbFucks. Politics is mostly a game, nay, a sport for us privileged folk. Corporate news media goes to great lengths to present it as such. If you watched any of the recent presidential debates within the last year, you could not escape the feeling that you were witnessing the pay-per-view mixed martial arts bout of the century.

In my last post, I talked about how sports can be inherently political. We want our sports to remain apolitical, but we can't help viewing our politics as sporting. For the privileged, it really is a game. What do you stand to lose?

This isn't going to be some tripe about how we all need to come together. We don't. Some of us are Nazis. This is not hyperbole.

Nazis did not spontaneously goose step into the streets of Berlin in their sexy Hugo Boss uniforms, convincing millions of Germans simultaneously, "yeah, that's definitely who we are now. I loved Jews before, but look at those shiny skull pendants. How can you not want to gas a few kikes after laying eyes on that?"

Consider this a plea to try to consciously visualize the real world ramifications of your beliefs, or ponder more carefully the consequences of whatever means you seek to realize your ideological ends. This is not a game.

Maybe we all want to curb stomp some fascists, but boots are expensive. Take self-defense classes, read books, and pursue happiness with diligence.

Happy New Year.

Monday, August 22, 2016

Football is Political

It's a common refrain that "politics has no place in sport."

I guess it's comforting to people. The idea, I'm told, is that sports should be about coming together, setting aside our differences, and enjoying a spectacle. It sounds nice.

More fun, however, is screaming "GO HOME YA BUMS, GO HOME!" at visiting fans.

So long as football is controlled by corporate interests, we can't really have those "nice" things (not that we'd really want them, as channeling our primal, territorial rage into sport would remain preferable to most alternatives). We do, however, get an inexplicable Michael Jackson statue, insipid adverts for insipid products, and a man who is much more rewardingly and disproportionately adept at dodging defenders than he is taxes. If you want politics out of business, cool. But help us get business out of politics. Otherwise, you're complicit in something you may very well claim to hate: the government censors political banners to control how you think and feel. Rather, the governing body of every major sport censors political expression. It's a business, after all. Politics is a bad look. Some people may feel alienated and profits may go down. Some people may also stab each other, but that's always a risk in football.

Here's a fun tangential thought: A lot of the same people who rail against "political correctness" seem to hate having politics in sports, entertainment, and pretty much everywhere except for their own regimented safe spaces (unless it's their politics). I know, there's nothing remarkable or profound about merely mentioning that hypocrites exist (*eighth grade mind BLOWN!*), but it feels relevant here.

This brings us to last week. Members of Celtic FC's Green Brigade supporters group held Palestinian flags during a Champions League match against Hapoel Be'er Sheva in a showing of solidarity. As this is a brazenly political act, UEFA has a problem with it. Of course, displaying a national flag is not necessarily political (though a nation's flag is always political in the more literal sense), displaying a Palestinian flag during a match against an Israeli opponent is undeniably pointed.

And none of this is shocking. Celtic itself is inherently political (even more political than Israel's presence in a European competition). The club has represented one side of a bitter sectarian divide for most of its history. It was founded to provide aid for the starving children of immigrants. You can't just fucking gloss over that in the hopes of having neat and clean marketable entertainment. You also cannot gloss over the fact that a minority of Celtic fans occasionally sing and chant terrible things, especially toward their bitter rivals, Rangers. This goes both ways in The Old Firm (which doesn't excuse the behavior, but it is what it is). If you disagree with the Green Brigade on the issue of Palestine, that's fine, but you're disagreeing with something fundamental to the club.

As football is a business, even the club sometimes disagrees with itself.

Part of what makes football truly beautiful and fascinating is that so many clubs and their supporters have distinct identities. Ideally, I suppose, the playing styles and personalities of the players and managers come to define those identities. It's timeless drama. However, players come and go. Chasing absurd salaries, very few ever stay put for prolonged periods of time. The people who remain most loyal are the ones paying money instead of making it.

I am not arguing that UEFA shouldn't fine Celtic FC. We have our forms of political expression, the right wing have theirs, and St. Pauli have whatever the hell they're up to. Everyone gets a fine.*

The idea that clubs and their supporters groups should be impotent, colorless, and quiet is what disturbs me. Every supporters group has electrifying apolitical chants and songs, but if football is to remain an art, it must remain a little dangerous.

*St. Pauli don't usually break the rules, I just wish more people knew about this club.


Wednesday, June 1, 2016

Geyser of Shit Receives Key Endorsement

WAYCROSS, GA - Leading Rib-rub-rican presidential candidate and presumptive nominee, Geyser of Shit, received another major endorsement today.

Speaking during a press conference at the Murphy Family Hog Farm in Waycross, bubbles of methane gas expressed their support for the presidential hopeful.

"He really speaks to us," said the near toxic levels of methane, "and he does this by simply spraying whatever is on his mind. He's authentic. But he's also a great politician. So he also sprays things to get votes. Basically, he's very reliable. Literally, he's everything we'd want him to be. He's a Geyser of Shit, after all, what else would you expect?"

Geyser of Shit accepted the endorsement and thanked the methane bubbles live at a nearby rally via webstream-of-feces.

"FFffffffuutttt pufftttt tupppp pllllurrrrrrrrrrrrd. Great!"

The speech was briefly interrupted by a scuffle between protestors and the Geyser's supporters. Consisting mostly of flies and dung beetles, the audience applauded vigorously as Geyser of Shit ejected putrid fecal matter in the direction of everyone in attendance.

"They're haters! They're haters! They're haters! They're haters! Glooooorrrryyyyyy to the booowwweeeellllllsssssss fffffffuuuuuuuuuuurrrrrddddd pllllffffftttttt."

Meanwhile, at the press conference, Seamus Murphy took the stage to speak glowingly of the candidate.

"Sure, he sprays some vile stuff. It's spewed all over the country, it gets in our faces and even our mouths, and the stench of it permeates our homes and almost every waking moment of our lives. It's nightmarish, and at this point, inescapable. But have you looked at his tax plan?"