In a never-ending social-maze of self-deception, many weak and worthless women, drunken on self-hate and penis-envy, have convinced themselves of yet another silly, womansplained, man-mangling cultural myth: “little-dick energy vs big-dick energy,” i.e. the idea that you can determine a guy’s size by the way he behaves in places where nudity is a serious crime.
Hi Professor [name],
A questions on quiz one concerned scholarly citation. The correct answer allowed for “even blogs with proper citation” (paraphrasing) but not citation to Wikipedia. I got the question right, because I’m plenty aware of the overall animus against Wikipedia by academic gatekeepers. However, given the permitting of “blogs with proper citation,” I wanted to mention what you may already know: when it’s not, it’s not — but Wikipedia is consistently an awesome gateway to primary sources and solid secondary sources.
Teach her to hate, and she will hate her Father. Hating her Father, she will hate herself. Hating herself, she will hate solitude. Hating solitude, she will, by the right torture, rush into your synagogue of satan.
There, she will beg you for purpose, for the will to live, from which you saved her:
Gnaw off her limbs, she will thank you tearfully; gouge out her eyes, she will laugh cheerfully; sew closed her mouth, she will squirm her loyalty; bound in the suffocating lie, she will die gratefully.
As the pale and sickly Pharaohs clutch their slaves ever tighter, the plagues continue.
Feminism has no principles. At some point it may have, as when brats among the bored, boring female aristocracy first began begging each other’s fathers for the “equality” of forcing mid-tier men to trick-shuffle the social-deck and place more sterilized, cotton-crammed women towards the top.
As any good goy knows: we have nothing to fear but fear itself. So as Louisa Vesterager Jespersen and Maren Ueland screamed in agony while being mutilated and beheaded: they were releasing a fierce and empowered battle-cry, representing the divine feminine very well, as they returned to mother earth.
Continuity real or imagined of social systems aside, each generation would belie, by distinct precision differentiating humans from less, every important trendline grafted briefly to eternity by dust — but none are important. Narrative never bolsters nor diminishes the pure truth of reality — only testifying to the trajectory of deeds: seeds, both crooked and straight, yield as sown.