If you are a florist, and not attentive to detail, then you are a bad florist.
If you are a soldier, and not attentive to detail, then you are a dead soldier.
If you are a parent, and not attentive to detail, then you are a neglectful parent.
Yet when you are “too” attention to detail — certain frauds will pretend that you have Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD).
Anti-father, anti-family misogyny underpins all gender equality myths, destroying the potential of countless a woman — torturing her away from being healthy and happy in her natural circumstance: subordinate to a man.
No one really believes the myth of equality. Imagine a woman immersed in the pretended success of equality: The man whom her looks and charms has attracted is her complete equal — in height, strength, courage, finances, and status.
Gluttonous, penis-envying bad mother Beth Chapman died today in Hawaii, from a condition known as being a fat, cancerous loser.
My motto is: “If she’s old enough to operate a video camera, then she’s old enough to bypass child-pornography laws, because rules are for boys and men.” That is why I support whiny, big-tit, man-faced child-pornographer advocate and almost-passible male-to-female transsexual Kat Timpf, xer terrible body-language, and xer belief that rules do not apply to 16-year-old girls who distribute child-pornography in Maryland.
As any properly delusional deadbeat-mom enabler knows: women are blameless, because women are powerless — and women are powerful, so women deserve rights. Thus women are both too weak and stupid, and too mighty and divine, to woman-up and follow society’s laws against murder.
Similarly, rapists are too delicate and majestic to follow rules — so we should never pretend that we could ever “legislate morality” against those with the sexual orientation of rapist.
Imagine a “white supremacist nation” that built its laws around punishing hard-working, obedient blacks — and rewarding lazy, disobedient whites. Now, set aside that cartoon world, and it should be obvious why race-neutral capitalist taskmasters love caffeine-addicts — and hate potheads.
As a vice for so much practiced and rewarded vanity of self-importance, the era of downward spiral landed with a generation plagued by an addiction to predicting reactions. This poetic justice: the natural consequence of self-importance.
And the rage of that consequence culminated in the birth of a generation blessed with a curse for their predecessors: complete apathy towards those whose vain self-importance had addicted them to vanity.