Wednesday, March 4, 2015

Homosexual Tyranny and Moby Dick

This one recently re-read Moby Dick again. Like so many of the other western marketing classics with which we are barraged--Plato; Shakespeare; Rowling--the miasmatic output of Melville's pseudo-creative economics treatise is painfully flawed in both structure, expression, and theme. What conjoins the work so strongly to twentieth and twenty-first century Earth history, though, is the way in which Melville's book honestly expresses the longstanding relationship between misogyny, Anglo-supremacist racism, racketeer economies, and homosexuality. No, not a typographical error--this one didn't mean homoaversion or homophobia, but homosexuality.

As when we previously discussed the highly, repressedly homonormative aspects of western civilization, remember that, in discussing the true homonormativity behind said civilization, the aim is not to discredit homosexual longings and/or behavior in some way. Rather, what we're exploring is the ways in which certain varieties of homosexual culture have been inextricably linked, for thousands of years, to all sorts of other things that you know are bad--such as, to say the least, abject imperial murder. And racism, and sexism, and any other ism you don't like. The great deceit of some of these homosexual cultural aspects during the twentieth century has been to link themselves with repression, after so many centuries of being the repressors behind the very ills they now claim to join the fight against.

I know that it sounds spooky, in a way. You're not supposed to suggest that certain people may have acted in concert, because people are never supposed to act in concert without first disclosing the full story to the proper media authorities. And at the mere suggestion of homosexuality being in some way linked to anything bad, we're suddenly shivering at the thought that we might be Westboro fundies, counter-reactionary Frank Fitts-types or someone else with a demonstrably keen interest in guy-on-guy. Still, it's something that needs to be considered, and Moby Dick is a great/terrible place to start. (Incidentally, this would be a good place for that old Voltaire-misattributed Kevin Strom quote [found on this page; do a search for "Kevin Strom" and it'll jump you to the right quote], but I don't want to use it, because Strom is exactly the kind of asshole from which this essay needs to be able to distinguish itself.)

So don't be afraid. Think about it. As before in Homonormative, be willing to perceive a vast difference between "people who feel certain sexual desires" and "patriarchal, flamboyant, tyrannical political activists." There's a lot to learn, there, even if you come away from this still thinking that Ahab's pursuit was some kind of grand expression of wisdom.

Summary Dick

If you haven't endured the pain recently, or at all, here's what happens in Moby Dick. Spoiler (snicker) warning.

1) A lifelong bachelor, Ishmael, introduces himself excessively to the reader in the first person. Ishmael is an occasional sailor and an occasional rural schoolmaster of young boys. He has recently decided he has to go sailing again.

2) Ishmael travels to a port and looks for a place to wait for a ship. He skulks through the shadows of the port, peeping in windows, and rejects two local inns for seeming "too nice." When he reaches a third, he discovers that the large male proprietor is out of rooms, but can allow Ishmael to sleep in the same bed as another man looking for sailing work. Ishmael agonizes over the decision in the inn's common room for a while, but decides not to go ask about prices or availability at any of the other inns he saw previously, or to continue looking for a different one.

3) Ishmael spends all evening trembling with anticipation of the arrival of the man who will share his bed. He worries about what he should wear under the covers, and how he should arrange himself. When the man finally shows up, Ishmael is excited to notice that his bed companion is a big, dark man of "savage" descent. For long minutes, Ishmael peeks at the man undressing and takes detailed note of the man's exotic, savage features; the man's scars, muscles, taut body, and obvious man-eating/cannibalistic background.

4) The next morning, Ishmael wakes up, Brokeback Mountain-style, with the big, brawny savage's arm thrown across him. Ishmael is too shuddery and nervous to move the arm, so he waits until his bedmate wakes up to greet him. He and his bedmate cuddle for a long time, enjoying the warmth and comfort of the bed. Ishmael learns that the man's name is Queequeg, and that Queequeg, like Ishmael, wants to go on a whaling voyage. What a perfect coincidence! Queequeg (who is big and muscular, in contrast to tender, weak Ishmael) declares that he will be Ishmael's protector. They go to breakfast together, and Ishmael takes secret pleasure in the fact that the innkeeper and all the inn's other guests take notice of how close he and Queequeg have become in only one night.

5) Ishmael and Queequeg locate a whaling ship and sign up. Queequeg is the strong, silent type, and his somewhat-abrasive personality risks social trouble with the ship's domineering officers, but Ishmael is able to smooth things over, and get him and Queequeg hired as sailors, even though Ishmael is very nervous about the whole thing.

6) For a few days, Ish & Quee wait in port for the ship to be ready. Ish describes how they eat every meal together, explore the town together, get provisioned for the journey together, and get to know each other lots better. Ish & Quee talk about their religions--how Ish is theoretically a follower of the man stretched on the cross, and how Quee is the worshiper of a carved idol in the shape of a small, kneeling boy.

7) The very first female character (the only one in the entire book) makes her entrance: a shrewish, unpleasant old woman who tries to get the sailors to be moral and biblical. Ish feels that no one likes her, and is glad when she's gone. She is mentioned only briefly. Up until this point, the entire world has been male, and after this point, it will continue to be wholly male until the end.

8) Ish & Quee set off on their sea voyage. Ish spends days terrified of and fascinated by the concept of the ship's captain. Said captain, Captain Ahab, broods in his cabin, so obsessed with a big white whale that he has no time for home or hearth. Or profit. Ish takes brief note of three of the ship's intimidating officers, then spends several paragraphs describing Queequeg again, who was chosen as one of the ship's brawny harpooners. Ish also lasciviously describes in detail the lush, muscular bodies of the ship's other two harpooners--a big black savage who wears sparing clothing, and has a very dominating look about him, and a big Indian savage, who is similarly attired (but Tashtego, the latter, is not so sexy and muscular as Daggoo, the former). Ish takes private satisfaction in how his Queequeg (early on, Ish adopted the possessive for his bedmate) is far more rugged, savage, and beautiful a godless cannibal subservient than are the other two.

9) Melville makes a brief introduction of Ahab. Ahab marches onto the scene, states aloud his fatal flaw, and Melville breaks the fourth wall (which he's already done throughout anyway) to tell the reader about how Ahab's quest for the white whale is maddening and will lead to ruin.

10) Melville takes godawful amounts of time to giddily describe, in nonfiction style, the process of whaling. Melville discusses how noble are western European and Anglo-American men for taking up the modern heroic pursuit of slaughtering whales for profit, and details how handsome and glorious the whales are, and how rugged and masculine the whaling men are, when they leave shore life behind for 3-5 year stretches to share bunks on long sea voyages to the whaling lanes. He mentions the rugged ports where whaling ships sometimes stop to stock up on provisions, where situations are "too tough" for women and children. But just dandy for whaling men.

11) Through Ishmael, Melville briefly describes the slaying of a couple of whales, focusing mostly on how damned sexy and muscular the three muscular, savage harpooners are (did I mention that two were Indians, and one was black? And that they were muscular, strong, and physically superior to the rest of the crew?).

12) Melville describes, in exorbitantly painful detail, his theories about whales and whale hunters. Whales are noble, manly, beautiful beasts, for scores of pages; once or twice, he may indirectly mention that they travel in "pods." Melville discusses the long, grand tradition of manly classical men, like Plato and Apollo (sic) and Shakespeare, who dedicate themselves so lavishly to their beautiful and manly pursuits. Any doubt about the text's homoeroticism, which still might linger in the mind of the most biased prude or most adamant homosexual, is dispelled through chapters 94 and 95, during descriptions of the whale harvesting process, wherein men pack together in the workshop to thrust their arms and heads into puddles of cetaceous oil-products ("sperm"), turning giddy and delirious with the thrillful sensations of stroking one another's bodies while immersed in the thick, intoxicating payload.

("Sperm" as he uses it doesn't mean semen, but the numerous viscous substances gathered from the whale's corpse for sale. The way Melville writes these scenes, they're the equivalent of a 7-minute carwash commercial where six giggling cheerleaders end up soaking each other in soapy water, get in slap fights, then fall onto the hood of their convertible to kiss and grope.)

While scorning most whales, and dismissing them as "too small" and not worth the effort (those are the boring ones, which once or twice in the entire text may swim in pods), Melville lavishes so much praise on big, masculine, solitary sperm whales that you wouldn't believe how much he does it unless you've actually read the book a half dozen times. It's that insane. Have you ever listened to a two hour Superbowl pregame show? Imagine if those guys talked nonstop, without commercials, for an entire year. Only that would begin to approach an equivalent to how excited Melville is about sperm whales and the men who love pursuing them together.

13) The crew of the Pequod finally locates the damn white whale, chases it down, and all hands but Ish are lost when Moby Dick wrecks the ship.

Thus it is that a really crappy 2-cent children's horror comic of five pages' length is turned into a classic of western literature, through the infusion of hundreds of pages of biology-professor-wannabe, and hundreds more of the most intense homosexual repression you'll find outside of Vatican City.

On the Utter Worthlessness of Women

In the course of the defence, the witty Erskine went on to illustrate his position, by alluding to a recent crim. con. case, wherein a gentleman, after in vain trying to bridle his wife's viciousness, had at last abandoned her upon the seas of life; but in the course of years, repenting of that step, he instituted an action to recover possession of her. Erskine was on the other side; and he then supported i by saying, that though the gentleman had originally harpooned the lady, and had once had her fast, and only by reason of the great stress of her plunging viciousness, had at last abandoned her; yet abandon her he did, so that she became a loose-fish; and therefore when a subsequent gentleman re-harpooned her, the lady then became that subsequent gentleman's property, along with whatever harpoon might have been found sticking in her...Now in the present case Eskine contended that the examples of the whale and the lady were reciprocally illustrative of each other.

This is the cultural trend that has been called "patriarchy." The very thing that feminists and homosexuals seem united on now is, in fact, the earlier face of culturally-dominant homosexuality that has shaped western his-tory. It makes perfect sense that a culture of self-absorbed, exclusively-masculinist men would be the most patriarchal on the planet, and Melville, through Ishmael's voyage--through the Ish/Quee and Ahab/Moby relationships, and the fierce pairing off and competition between white undersailors and African/Indian harpooner-studs--has shown us exactly that. Neither women, nor of course children, have any importance to Melville. All he cares about is men: how men look; how men sleep; how men eat and drink and laugh together; how men form deep bonds; how attractive and emblematic the male Greek gods were, particularly when they took the shape of whales and/or slew whales...

The western cultural trend of men dominating politics, media, and entertainment may be in part due to aggregate biological differences in the sexes' abilities or interests, but this historical pattern we're examining owes a great deal, too, to the fact that many of these men, these foundations of western civilization, were simply so strongly homosexually acculturated that they didn't care at all about women. They didn't want to talk to women, they didn't want to listen to women, they didn't want to read women's stories or read about women in their own stories, they didn't want to see women--all they wanted was to hang out with the boys, and occasionally, give their chattel-wives a duty-fuck to produce offspring to maintain male civilization.

Consider the Indo-European language bases of the great imperial dialects: Greek, Roman, French, and English. The long western trend of lacking meaningful gender-neutral pronouns is explained by reference to classical homosexual supremacism. When Melville talks about whales, for example, the whales are always he. Sailors are he, fish are he, oceans are he--everything is "he." Using the male gender-specific pronoun as the standard form in western writing occurs due to a homosexually cultured interest in men and men only. The homosexual patriarchs of western culture casually ignored women for so many thousands of years because of a true lack of concern for them, except as vessels by which to create offspring. There was no need to employ female pronouns in their instructive writing, because for these men, their fantasies--and realities--were of a male-only world.

(Contrast that behavior to the current political idiocies of making up gender-neutral pronouns in a sniveling attempt to rewrite history by making things less precise and less human, rather than the proper course of simply using female pronouns as often as male ones. The implied denial of any sexual identity on the part of the actor, even a mistaken one, is worse yet than the old patriarchs' desire to have only one meaningful sexual identity. That's because 1 < 2 and 2 > 1.)

That's why the semesters in schools, or the dissemination of knowledge (or the sperm whale), play such exclusionarily centralized roles in classical, western language--because they were propagated by an intensely homosexual culture that had zero genuine interest in women. Brilliantly, this exclusionary homoerotic culture has now placed the blame for such policies on heterosexuals--the very men who, for millennia, were ignored and marginalized because they dared show genuine, lasting interest in women, rather than sailing ships or having another round with the boys.

Blaming the Heteros for the Homos' Actions

It's sacrosanct, now, this weird, novel relationship that we imagine exists between "homosexual rights" and "women's rights." When you think about it, all of those scions of the patriarchy, creating a male-focused world in which women were either invisible, or marginal players, were really homosexuals. Melville's grand classic is as bad an example of writing as anything you can come up with. It's predictable in plot, offering not even foreshadowing, but internally spoiling itself through the author breaking the fourth wall all the time and promising you as an absolute authority that Ahab's quest will come to a bad end. It's predictable in theme, since Melville serves as his own literary critic, analyzing his characters and setting from a distance at the same time as he tells the story, and telling you how you're supposed to react to it, and how you're supposed to feel about what will be its ultimate message.

It's simplistic and dumb, easily understandable, which is why it's so easy to be considered a classic--like Hamlet or Harry Potter, it screams its message at you in all-caps boldface, over and over, until no one can possibly go near the book without being aware that "focusing too much on vengeance is like, uhh, bad." Naturally, it lacks any of the subtlety of quality literature: how much vengeance is too much? What is it, exactly, about vengeance, which causes it to form, or which causes certain people to be so susceptible? Etc. Melville has nothing to say on all of that; his banal fable is fully spent a couple of paragraphs after Ahab has first warned the crew to be on the lookout for the white whale.

Even were you interested in the work as homoerotic literature, it's terrible. Once Melville has gotten his rocks off in the initial port scenes, Ish and Quee's relationship drops almost entirely off the radar. Neither character develops, conversation and intimacy are at zero degrees Kelvin, and it's clear that the author was unable to convey the passage of inter-character relationships while also juggling plot. (He can't handle setting, either, but that's okay, since he described the ship at the beginning. And this one does take note of how Quee's savage foresight in having a floating coffin built does leave Ish with something to float away on at the end--because of course, that's the one thing that survive's Dick's wrath--but it's so abjectly written that it ends up being nothing more than coincidence. Melville's yearning does not meaning make.)

Granted, some people still haven't figured out how to apply the "white whale obsession" to their own lives, but their failure doesn't make Melville brilliant by contrast. Or, if it does, Melville is still less brilliant than Barney the Dinosaur, for all the complexity of of the message he strains to convey. You can describe Moby Dick to a child in a single sentence, and they'll have gained the full benefit of it. The shortest of Aesop's fables takes more mental acuity to understand. The only real purpose to read Moby Dick is either (1) to say you've actually read it, or (2) to study the historical flaws of phrenology and cetology as they were expressed by nineteenth century Americans.

Thackeray and Dickens can lay claim to strong female characters, in the former case, or, in the latter, at least the active understanding of women's existence and value in the world. To Melville, they're non-entities, as they are to his predecessors. Plato's entire philosophical world is a boy's club of party and play, debate and feast, drink and orgy, tutor the lads and drink up again.

Quoting homonormative:
The Batman franchise isn't alone in demonstrating strong old-style homoeroticism alongside old-style patriarchy. Most traditional American comics of the 20th century followed this trend. Action is focused on a man (or men) who wear tight suits and have incredibly muscular bodies; they have little to no time to see their token girlfriends because they're busy battling with other men. Women have very little role in the lives of the old heroes, except as: screaming damsels to be rescued by said incredible men in tight suits; secretaries answering the phone; or, occasionally, being the butt of sexist jokes. You'd almost think that the creators [and patrons] of these franchises were far, far more interested in men than they were in women.

Remember again: the aim here is not to criticize homosexuality. Rather, we're criticizing the predominant variety of homosexuality that built western culture, namely, the kind that didn't care about women or children. (Or, frankly, men--since it had to kill so many of them to find the one it really wanted.)

The Gayness of Western Culture

How many professors have objected upon hearing a student mutter, "This class is, like, so gay"? How little did they know how wrong they were to criticize those students, for western history is totally gay. No wonder, actually, that so much classical literature, history, and science comes across as weirdly wrong and boring to the average student.

What has early western literature been, but a series of boys-club adventures, utterly lacking in meaningful interaction between the sexes? The early Greek myths, before the Athenian Empire had replaced them, were wonderful things, filled with play and romance (naturally, homocentric schoolmasters banned the real Greek myths as "inappropriate" early on, focusing their curricula on tamer, more acceptable stories, such as ones about mass graves, inferior negro brains, and chattel marriage). Then suddenly, Plato's on the scene, and for hundreds and hundreds of years, western literature becomes a painfully dry series of men-only tomes of pontification and male-male-male adventure stories. People can't even digest them today without asking a bunch of chubby screenwriters to add sexy female warrioresses into the otherwise-homoerotic canon. The Romantics tried to inject some life into the stuff, and there are plenty of exceptions, but like Lucifer's big council in Pandemonium during Paradise Lost, most students can still sense the wrongness in the air when so much of the "great" tales is nothing but a bunch of strong men, alone together, talking about other strong men.

Worse, what has western history been, but a series of men forming male-only armed groups, leaving behind vaginas and offspring, and marching away for years to share tents with other men, stick spears into other men's bodies, negotiate with other men, and grow old and die with other men? From Alexander the Great to Chris Kyle, the homosexuals who fantasize about a rugged, manly life of manly pursuits in manly realms, and who then go to live out their fantasies putting things into other men's unwilling bodies, are fundamentally dangerous to humanity. The genocides these men leave in their wake--the billions of bodies, and thousands of civilizations, ruined by the killer-queers who would rather violate other men's bodies than be forced to stay home with a bunch of boring eww-cooties girls--are the legacy of our failure to understand different kinds of homosexuality.

To invoke Godwin, necessarily: The Hidden Hitler, which is rather impeccably documented. If you're willing to trust the words of a woman (Eva Braun) about her husband, then the mountains of other research can leave you a believer.

The braggadocio sexuality of these repressed homosexuals, coupled with their intense man-only interests, explains grandiose displays of "heterosexuality" and dramatic scenes of female objectification far more than does actual heterosexual inclinations from men toward women. In short, the homo-patriarchs were objectifying women so fiercely because they didn't understand what it was to actually want women. Women's emotional lives, for example, are unimportant to this homopatriarchal culture, but in an attempt to appear heterosexual, the homopatriarchs made sure to design objective, and incredibly stupid and expensive, "fashion" industries.

Therein lies the interesting switch-off: at some point during the twentieth century, homosexuality became universally, rather than selectively, linked to women's rights. The centuries of barefoot and pregnant, whalebone corsets, bound feet, anorexia and new frocks, men's clubs and boardrooms, can be blamed, most obviously and rationally, on men who have no inclination at all toward being interested in women. Yet, in a dazzling strategic move of War is Peace, the completely non-female culture of homopatriarchy has been linked to feminism (however non-coincidentally hypocritical and ironic it may or may not be).

Let's look at Melville again, this time on the homopatriarchs' (1) idealized disgust for women-as-people, their (2) drive to reproduce their own culture using wombs-as-property, and their (3) resulting hatred of integrated families and love for imperial warfare:
For like certain other omnivorous roving lovers that might be named, my Lord Whale has no taste for the nursery, however much for the bower; and so, being a great traveller (sic), he leaves his anonymous babies all over the world; every baby an the ardor of youth declines; as years and dumps a general lassitude overtakes the sated Turk; then a love of ease and virtue supplants the love for maidens; our Ottoman enters upon the impotent, repentant, admonitory stage of life, forswears, disbands the harem, and grown to an exemplary, sulky old soul, goes about all alone among the meridians and parallels saying his prayers, and warning each young Leviathan from his amorous errors.

Two words: Dick Cheney. (Okay, four: Dick Cheney and Mary Cheney, since she's such a big fan of his.) Because after you've blown up Alderaan and duplicated yourself during your younger years, it's time to fuck up the planet for the rest of the species, count your coins, and start moralizing at young people.

The [male sperm whale] schools are...a mob of young collegians, they are full of fight, fun, and wickedness, tumbling round the world at such a reckless, rollicking rate, that no prudent underwriter would insure them any more than he would a riotous lad at Yale or Harvard. They soon relinquish this turbulence though, and when about three-fourths grown, break up, and separately go about in quest of settlements, that is, harems.
-Herman Melville

Why did George Washington cross the Delaware? Was it because he cared about the freedom of the British colonists to self-determine and to pay lower taxes? Taxes on necessary trade goods in particular? No--we know that from the Whiskey Rebellion.

And was it for his own selfish financial interests? No, because he was already a rich bastard who owned a lot of slaves and land, and could take it easy the rest of his years without risking having all his wealth stripped from him and his family, being flogged and tortured by the crown, and then getting executed as a traitor and war criminal.

Why, then, was old George so eager to leave [if you're feeling academic: "home and hearth"] [if you're feeling direct: "the vagina"] behind, and instead camp out in the woods with a bunch of uniformed dudes for several years, strategizing against a bunch of other uniformed dudes?

Easy: because he was a White Whale, like most of the homopatriarchs who've wanted to spend the past 5K years marching and inspecting nubile young male soldiers, instead of flirting or fucking in the "traditional" way. He was where he wanted to be--not dying of boredom at home with Martha, but out in the field, talking about life with his grizzled fellows while admiring the limber next generation as it threw itself violently together, only the strongest to emerge, after which their elders would line them up, inspect them, and decorate them with medals.

Plenty of the actual stupid, low-grade soldiers are heterosexual, but the military's structural pomp and circumstance--its manly fashion shows, its uniforms, its sex segregation of young men under the command of male overseers based upon seniority, and its supposed "women-chasing" status, is little more than cover for guys who actually want to be around other guys for years on end.

(Check more noxious racism from Melville: some non-white sailors whose ship the Pequod's crew sighted at sea, but not hailed or boarded, were surely, "a herd of remorseless wild pirates and inhuman atheistical devils..." Published just a decade before the American Civil War, incidentally.)

In the event you're a literature buff, and feel offended for entirely separate reasons--e.g., you don't care whether or not Melville was gay, but you feel it is inappropriate to compare his book on whaling to a philosophy for human lives and nations--then get ready to be disappointed, because as you surely already know, Melville draws the comparison himself, in an indefensible, non-ironic way:
What was America in 1492 but a Loose-Fish, in which Columbus struck the Spanish standard by way of wailing it for his royal master and mistress? What was Poland to the Czar? What Greece to the Turk? What India to England? What at last will Mexico be to the United States? All Loose-Fish.

Remember, literature buffs: "The White Man's Burden" was so striking because it was sarcastic. True classics of western history, like Melville's Moby Dick, are classics because they are not sarcastic. Melville's work actually meant all the things it said, including making the mightiest and most noble of all whales the white one. On purpose. Non-ironically.

The homopatariarchs' culture is built upon endless war, racism, the violation of childrens' bodies, and the propertization of women. The genuinely patriarchal aspects of western civilization are an entirely realistic, entirely different cultural form than the overblown patriarchy-fantasies engendered by western corporate feminism; whatever experiences you may have with the latter, be willing to recognize the true origins of the now-misappropriated term, whereby women actually were womb-slaves to the man-obsessed imperial manlovers of war and conquest. That kind of patriarchy actually existed, once, and even now, its shadow is deep enough to cast a pallor over the selfish frivolities of today's eerie activists.

Distinguishing Gayness

Learn to distinguish the kind of homosexual culture we're looking at here from other kinds. This is not the now-traditional homosexuality that is viewed as effeminate, mincing, lisping, or whatever; that's not how it worked throughout most of western history. This is the hidden, more prevalent homosexuality; the homosexuality of a different sort of desire. It is a homosexuality of infantilized, aggressive adults, where women are still gross and boring, full of cooties, and never wanting to play the right games, and where "responsibility" and "future" are still and always alien concepts. It's a mad refusal to be a grown-up: an inability to sit still and keep clean, an inability to be content or "bored," and it drives the homopatriarchs to always be looking for new friends, while shouldering aside old ones; always starting fights; always trying to prove themselves; always obsessed with bigger and cooler explosions...and yet, doing so always with the sense that there are real Adults in the world, watching them, expecting them to be adults. And so they marry, yet ignore and beat, women; they sire, yet ignore and beat, children; they promise to be taking care of everyone, then go start a fight that could engulf the world in flames; they hoot aggressive catcalls at women on the street, then spend nine months sharing bunks with their closest dudebro friends in a tiny submarine cabin; they cloister in chapels, rape little boys, and claim to be devoted to a God who believes in marriage and propagation. These are the men who kill thousands pursuing Helen of Troy, even though, once they have her, they leave her on a throne and head right back outside to a new campaign with the boys.

Transhuman Hells

The continuation of this dominant cultural form will lead directly to the transhuman hells of Earth's future. As these homosexual imperialists learn how to concoct their own imitation babies in test tubes instead of inside the wombs of propertized wife-wombs, they will have even less use for female-ness and femininity, or integrative, responsible heterosexuality and homosexuality, than they did before. Women will no longer be expected to serve as domestic breeding slaves, but as standardized busywork slaves. These are the same pervert tyrant-masters who murdered "heretical faggots" for "sodomy" during the Dark Ages, while spending the rest of the day boffing the choirboys, and grooming orphans to have their immature vaginas and anuses shredded by the local lords, behind the holy walls the serfs' taxes paid for. The continued cultural pre-eminence of this particular western homosexual subculture will prove no better for most homosexuals than it ever has.

Five thousand years of western history, now, has shown us the fruits of this homosexual tyranny. Bands of vicious military queers endlessly rove the globe, destroying settled populations of independents, families, and children, leveraging the increased muscle-mass and social coordination of homogeneous male Spartan self-lovers against the males who dared live their lives alone, or in support of females and young. The western homopatriarchs stole math, science, astronomy, architecture, and agriculture from the traditionally heterogeneous cultures of India and Arabia, then spent centuries celebrating selfish, materialist, martial homosexuals like Plato, Aristotle, Socrates, Dante, de Sade, Milton, Alexander, Napoleon, Lincoln, et cetera, ad nauseam.

The great boy-rape church-cults figured prominently throughout western history, of course, and what else can the endless crusades and manifest destinies be seen as, except yet more centuries of exhortions by horny old men that their young band up, trim their hair into pixie cuts, straighten their pretty matching uniforms, and leave behind their families and communities to go off and fuck/fight other men? If you're stupid enough to believe lines about "security" and "defense," this obviously won't resonate with you, but if you've figured that part out, it's an easy transition into understanding exactly why western military culture, like most western culture, has traced such a clear path from the intern-raping ancients in Athens and Rome, to the modern ones in the District of Columbia and Rome.

This subculture has hidden itself successfully inside heterosexuality for most of written human history. Even now, it is able to falsely link itself with both hetero- and homosexuality, as though the ancient Grecian virtues of the boy-raping, family-killing, warrior-thief empires have anything to do with what the rest of us think of as sexuality. Deny them those hiding places, if you would see them ever stopped.


  1. Well, shit, I should have read this crappy-ass book before I read this.

    But I can only fault Socrates for not seeing much of value in the primitive peasant or roaming societies. Other than that, you can't not acknowledge that he argued quite convincingly that women should be entitled to same power and privilieges. Warriors, rulers, whatever - it was all good, if they had what it took. And they should also do gymnastics naked, together with the men.

    1. Yah as to Socrates. As the current version of this trend reveals, though, biological women--such as Hillary Clinton, who is in theory a human female--can fit right into it. So long as they're apassionate murdering-drones, everyone's welcome on the big black bus.

  2. Yeah, I'm down with training with the ladies. Hopefully they get to keep their hair long though (otherwise could be too easy to confuse with my dudebros).

    Another redeeming idea in "The Republic" was that the more virtuous crowd (men and women) would get to be more promiscuous :D. Which in some ways is not that different from some matriarchal societies with "integrated" families - women had a lot of power for many reasons, including their ability to collectively exclude non-cooperating males from mating.

  3. Shit, this just reminded me the obvious, which is guys in the military love to call each other "ladies". (At least according to the movies.)

    1. My own IRL anecdotal experience indicates that that trend belonged to the latter half of the twentieth century, whereas the hyper-repression of the modern military (which is almost politically correct) leads to even more twisted behaviors that can't be so glaringly analyzed as calling your dudebros "ladies." But yeah, twentieth century, that seems right-on.