Matt Forney
Spread the Word!

A Nation of Crybabies

NOTE: This post was salvaged from a book project I started last year on how to craft your rhetoric against feminists and leftists for maximum effect. I gave up on the book because I didn’t feel it was worth publishing. You’re better off reading Aristotle and Anonymous Conservative than my half-baked stuff. Nonetheless, I liked the book’s intro enough to recycle it for a post.

God, people these days are such fucking pussies.

Offended. That’s the defining word of our times. Everyone’s always offended by something. Jews are offended by Sarah Palin using the phrase “blood libel” to describe how liberals blamed her for a mass shooting. Liberals are offended by Mitt Romney mentioning that he’s “got five boys” because they think it’s a coded racist message. Feminists are offended by… well, what aren’t feminists offended by? Everywhere you turn in America there’s a manufactured crisis caused by someone who’s offended and wants apologies, restitution, anything to assuage their wounded feeeeeelings.

This doesn’t make any sense.

Our world is the most depraved and degenerate epoch of human history since Caligula was making sadistic love to his sister. Children these days have access to high definition videos of plastic-titted bimbos getting double-fisted while vomiting on horse cocks, streamed straight into their bedrooms courtesy of Time Warner and Linksys. Hell, when I was a kid, we had the likes of the Stile Project and to gross us out. Logic would dictate that by this point we’d be so desensitized to the obscene and vulgar that we’d be incapable of feeling anything.

But no, the exact opposite is happening.

As America continues its long slide towards Gomorrah, people are becoming even more sensitive and whiny. In a country which is so prosperous that there’s an obesity epidemic among the poor, our chattering classes entertain themselves by expressing phony indignation at “bigotry.” Despite our “progressive” president and government, our national dialogue is regressing back to an era when doctors treated women for “hysteria” by masturbating them to orgasm.

Actually… no, it’s insulting to even think of comparing ourselves to the Victorians. They may have been prissy and moralizing, but they also managed to colonize most of the world and advance science and technology faster than any other era before or since. We can’t even subjugate Afghanistan, a dirt-poor country full of goat herders whose idea of a fun Friday night is raping nine-year old boys in the ass.

Modern America is the worst of all possible worlds: a nation of impotent crybabies.

This book is not a call for the West to toughen up, or for any of the aforementioned crybabies to grow a thicker skin. Expecting crybabies to not get offended is like expecting rapists to not rape. Ted Bundy didn’t rape and murder young women because of a nebulous “rape culture,” a nonexistent “patriarchy,” or because his father didn’t tell him that “violence against women is wrong.” He raped because he was mentally defective, because something in his brain was broken. No amount of therapy or religious indoctrination could have possibly made him into a normal human being. Conversely, no amount of “man up” talk is going to get hypersensitive wusses to stop imagining conspiracies to put blacks back in the cotton fields and women back in the kitchen around every corner.

Feminists, and leftists in general, literally have brain damage.

This isn’t a cute talking point. I’m not Michael Savage ranting about how liberalism is a mental disorder; what I’m saying has been scientifically proven. More importantly, you can use liberals’ brain damage against them.

Why? Why not debate liberals with logic and facts? Why even debate them at all?

The answer is because while these people may seem insignificant, they happen to rule the country. As of this writing, they’ve elected an affirmative action case who’s accomplished nothing of note in his life to a second term as president, largely on the basis of being crybabies. They’re the people who turned Rush Limbaugh referring to a manjawed feminist activist as a “slut” into a mythical “War on Women,” who blew veins in their foreheads over Republican senatorial candidates in Indiana and Missouri not treating rape as worse than the Holocaust, Holodomor and Cultural Revolution combined. These people are conspiring to take away your right to bear arms because of crazy fruitloops who shoot up elementary schools, to take away your freedom of speech because you might hurt the feeeeeelings of transgendered lesbians in Vermont, and to tax even more of your income away so that LaQuisha the Ghetto Queen can keep squeezing out bastard spawn to up her monthly EBT allowance.

Attempting to discombobulate left-wingers logically is a waste of breath. The important thing you need to remember about people as mentally damaged as these is that they are not fully human. Professional whiners are fully driven by their emotions, so trying to impress them with facts is completely pointless. You can shove statistics about gun crime in their faces all day long, they’ll still cry for handguns to be banned because “THINK ABOUT THE CHILDREN!!!!” You might as well try and talk your cat into not puking hairballs up on your living room rug.

But hey, let’s say you don’t give a shit about politics. That’s fine; neither do I. I didn’t even vote in the last election, and I’m not going to vote ever again. What’s the point of pissing off people if you have no interest in affecting social change?

Answer: because you can.

I don’t like making feminists cry because I care about opposing them politically, I like making them cry because it’s fun. It puts a spring in a step and a boner in my pants when I see that someone on the other side of the country has been driven to tears because of something I did or said. These people, in addition to being pious and priggish, are complete fascists who can’t tolerate anyone disagreeing with them, no matter how minor. I want them to know that somewhere in the world is a bald, bearded blogger who can trigger their hysteria programming at the push of a button. I want them to feel dread knowing a “misogynist” such as myself is getting sloshed at their brewpubs, nibbling on artisanal bread at their coffeeshops, and moshing at their indie rock concerts. I want to sleep satisfied knowing that I have confronted some of the repugnant creatures on the Earth and ruined their nights.

In the quest for schadenfreude, the misery of others is not a means, but an end.

You might be wondering what possessed me to write a book like this, or what qualifications I have to be talking about something like this. Let me explain…

Back in October of 2012, I wrote an article for the Freedom Twenty-Five blog entitled “Saving Women from Themselves.” I intended it to be a meditation on the nature of love, a counterpoint to the popular idea that “loving” someone means accepting their flaws uncritically and refusing to challenge them, even when they are clearly in the wrong. I used as an example the popular leftist argument that Christians “hate” gays because they condemn homosexual behavior. But the thing is is that Christianity declares homosexuality to be a sin, and sinners go to Hell when they die. Hence, from the Christian perspective, condemning homosexuality is not done out of hate for gays but for love, trying to save their souls from burning forever in a lake of fire. My argument was that bloggers like myself who are accused of “hating women” by criticizing sluttiness, materialism and obesity in modern girls are doing so out of love, because those three things lead to misery in the end.

For completely inexplicable reasons, the article went viral.

Freedom Twenty-Five was besieged with a number of trolls aghast that I would dare claim that I know what’s best for women; the article was passed around Facebook in a fit of rage; I received a number of nasty comments on Twitter calling my post “offensive,” “dangerous” and “pro-misogyny bullshit,” among other things. The punchline is that by the standards of my normal writing, “Saving Women from Themselves” was unbelievably mild: it had no swearing, no insults, was by any objective measure a reasonable and well-thought out article.

It’s precisely because it was reasonable that feminists reacted so violently towards it.

Most novice writers think the way to get under leftists’ skin is to be in-your-face about it: “COCK FUCK CUNT DOUBLEFUCKER DICKSHIT QUEEFMASTER!!!!!11” That doesn’t work because you can be dismissed as being “angry” or “ranting.” The way to anger leftists, to trigger their defective brain chemistry, is to place yourself in a position of superiority over them. You need to engage their emotional circuitry in such a fashion to show that you are the strong one, you are isolating them, and they need your approval, not you theirs.

It sounds kooky, but this method of communication not only has a long pedigree in Western culture—going all the way back to ancient Greece—it’s supported by modern research in biology and psychology. This shit works.

I’ll explain its origins… in the next chapter.

Read Next: Roadkill Nation