Hate is Filthy, or These Swine are Upsetting my Sexually Repressed Self

Sexism, racism, these things are . . . physical, grossly biological.

Try a shock, here’s the ol’ glass ceiling – “Well, Pat, sounds you meet all the academic requirements. Show us your cock and we’ll start your paperwork!”

That’s what it means, right?

We all know we can trust some religious, pious ideologue to be the first one to say, “Hold on there you – what have you got in your underwear?” In any given social situation, that’s something like irony, a religious education always winds up in someone else’s pants.

But race, too. Think of the Nazis wanting to know who your grandmother exchanged fluids with. Think of how one black ancestor makes you black in the States, that’s the same question – who was your grandma fuckin’? I suppose a sexually liberated racist would ask about your grandad too.

But it’s disgusting, carnal. Talk about privacy issues. Now we can test your genes and prove whose fluids made their way into your grandma – I’m sorry, but that’s what it means, and if someone doesn’t like who your grandma was getting off with (or raped by either, I guess), then those are the sorts of images they like to exploit. The point is, that’s what the racists and sexists of the world care about, your personal junk, your fluids, and it’s disgusting, perverted, a major overstep in privacy and decency.

It’s grossing me out, is what I’m saying. Of course, that’s not the only purely physiological concern they have either. Obviously skin tone and everything else that can be a racial identifier . . . it’s all obvious, physical, no part of the world of thought and ideas. You try, as a lady, for the promotion with decades of knowledge, one of these pigs says “show us your cock.” You rise to some public prominence for some talent or good work, one of them says “he’s Jewish.” Vast, historical social arguments battle gross physiological details of your personal life over which no-one has any control. Born with a vagina? Too bad. Born from ethnic parents? Sucks to be you!

Like you’re trying to talk to a person, and in their mind they have you in fine slices on the spectrograph or some shit, checking out your genes. I’m running out of words for disgusting. It’s filthy and loathsome.

I’m not offended by religion, as such, holy books are books at least, and suggest the presence of invisible constructs like morality and justice and such . . . I’m offended by the complete cynical lack of all those good, invisible things in what they seem to obsess about, all this filthy biology they all seem to spend their time on.

So the racists, the Nazis, they’re gross on paper, in their constructs. Of course their solution is gross too, swimming in thick, red, filthy biology, with their minds forever in the gutter.



July 23rd., 2018

White Women, Amirite?

I’m no misogynist, but . . . LOL. Wait for it, I got a better “but” than most.

– white women killed me.

I’m no misogynist, no woman hater. I wish I could tell you some other demographic destroyed me, I don’t want to be hurting the feminist cause. I hope I’m a rare friendly fire incident, but that’s who’s killed me. Don’t deny my truth.

Stupid, blind, white women, the same sort as more than half of which voted for Trump in America and bloody Harper here at home. Same bunch of “I feel safer six feet off the ground in my SUV” soccer moms that don’t want to think about Big Oil conspiracies or poorer people in their little economy cars who can’t see around them and feel less safe every time another one comes onto the road. They said I shouldn’t worry abut politics and Trump, and how related are “don’t worry about the monster” and voting for him? World-blind white women don’t seem to give a shit about anything beyond their own fence, do they?

Or for some of the things within their fences too, like I used to be.

The authoritarian aspects don’t end there, either.

I’m an odd little fellow, and I need to see everything differently, and I didn’t like the childrearing practised on my and my generation, so I determined, about the time of the arrival of my first daughter into the world, that we would be a no punishment household. That seemed to work out, seemed amazing, we seemed to have almost no issues of authority, no bad behaviour. About the time the younger one graduated high school, I got in trouble, a midlife crisis –

– and those white women reverted to punishment with me.

Ultimatums and consequences, shunning for disobedience . . . everything I had disavowed for them, every sort of coercion my daughters were never subjected to. These white women trumped up charges like they were afraid of me, like they had no choice but to punish me for their safety, so they could abandon me in the very middle of my crisis and mark me as an abuser or something, just to make sure no-one else could ever love me again. My white women. Just like the white crowd of both sexes, threat is all they see. I am non-violent, always have been, I write about it all day long, and I fought my ex to raise my girls with none of it, twenty some years – but this is not my record, not an achievement or a statement of who I am, no. To these terrified white idiots, all they see is I haven’t beaten them for twenty years, so they think they have twenty years’ worth coming or something. They assume I have twenty years of rage built up. Well, they also assume something in my childhood, so really, it’s fifty-some years of my rage they’re afraid of.

Just imagine if I had lived a hundred years of non-violence and preaching about it. Then I’d be twice as dangerous again, and deserve my shunning doubly, right?

That’s why they had to abandon, accuse, and shun me in the middle of a breakdown, that’s why I see no way forward now or ever and do not expect to survive for long and that’s just too fucking bad, so sad, because some white women have guilt and irrational fears. Haven’t I learned yet, and will I never, that my feelings, all the way to suicide and beyond will never matter if some white woman is having any feeling at all? Men rule this world, so fuck your feelings, Jeff.

Fifty-seven years so far of that.

Especially if I’d had abuse in my early years, right? Then I’m sure to be a time bomb and deserve whatever is necessary, as a precaution, of course. This is psychology to me now: if anything happened to you before, then this is you, making it happen again. You can’t tell me I’m neglecting you now, because your mother did it first. This is psychology in the hands of someone looking for an excuse, someone just looking for a way out of the conversation.

And, yes, that’s all I wanted, a conversation.

White women did this to me so they wouldn’t have to talk to me. Still today, these are my crimes, you SAID this you said THAT, why would you say THAT?

Because I thought you were my friends, my loved ones. I need to talk. It all went away when you all stopped talking to me, and when I complained, no-one is talking to me, you dropped me. Shut up or get out, old time authoritarian bullshit from my own women. I disavow loyalty, I think loyalty is the opposite of morality, so I don’t like to use the word “betrayal.” Maybe if I can make a distinction, that it’s not a betrayal of my person, but of my strivings, my goals, only of everything that matters to me.

White women, in my experience, are miserable authoritarians.



July 11th., 2018