I was writing to a friend:
I’ve often thought what it’s like to be a mother, sounds terrible to me. To have that person moving around inside, then all that pain, then all the angst, a whole new life of heartbreak and joy ahead with someone like me as the child. Motherhood really does alter the brain of a woman but we’re seeing this alarming thing out there now where women are unfit to mother, they’re killing their babies etc. And they’re cheating all over the place.
I keep coming back to this song every time:
I’m not saying that as a Mary Whitehouse but as someone who’s looking back over the wreckage of his own life and wondering why the hell did I do that?
Maybe a better way of thinking about the sexual aspect of our cultural crisis is that both men and women are haunted by different specters.
For instance, our women are growing increasingly deranged, not because men are wimps, but because the traditional sex roles no longer exist. This leaves them as free radicals, with the wacky fads out of feminism and gender studies, orbiting them like unpaired electrons.
Put a different way, women are like bees without a hive. Without the normal social stimulants, they become erratic.
Naturally, we could write posts on how men have acted so egotistically and stupidly too but now act as useless wimps. Rather than concentrate on this aspect, let’s broaden it:
Jenny Garcia was raped & killed by David Morales in Austin TX, a sanctuary city. Morales, an illegal, had been arrested previously for child molestation, but was not deported because the sanctuary policy prohibited the arresting officers from determining his immigration status.
Then there’s this:
Now look, I wrote, years ago, that there is a distinct paedo aspect to homosexuality, borne out by stats [posts passim, inc. former version of blog]. Ooooo, every one up in arms about my attitude, ooooo, terrible man. And yet is is very much so.
Those men who molested me were homos, as simple as that, by the very definition of what they did. But there were women too and they were paedos just as much – but they got away with it.
There’s a general sickness and you see it in all this transgender garbage – and you end up with one branch of feminism attacking another for deviation, LOL, from the true way. The only true way is contained in the Sermon on the Mount. Not saying anyone can achieve it but it’s there as a reference point.
Or at least was. Did you see that primary school making kids go to gay parades? And gays wonder why we feel so angry, as angry as we do with May. These are not straight people, they are not straight in their thinking or in their souls – there’s no pride in that. They are lost people, trying to wreck the normal way of life – marriage, family, work, play, sport, home, vehicle. If you choose to exist outside the norm, then don’t taint anyone else with your deviance.
The very definition of normal now is so twisted that young people have not a clue – the teachers and headmasters and mistresses have made sure of that. Even two decades ago they’d have been drummed right out of the profession. They’d never have been allowed in anyway.
Any machine at all, if operated outside its designed parameters, its specs, is going to wrack itself to bits and that’s exactly what we’re seeing. We can’t seem to hit the principals in this thing, from the climate scammers to atonalism in music – we can’t seem to be able to get to them. May, for example, grins a sly grin and just keeps doing it with impunity, protected.
I see attacks on conservative values in comments here from time to time – it’s like the wolf saying to the sheep – come now, don’t huddle together so, be free, prance about on your own, you’re perfectly safe, we wolves are friends. But the sheep have a sixth sense and as in the song above – it sounds just like a lie.
Stick to what has largely made society work, don’t take on board all this other guff, certainly not a a replacement for the tried and tested, because it inevitably leads to your destruction.
Vox Day, via Chuckles:
A week and a half into school we received an email saying that he had been scratched by another child on the playground. No big deal, kids will be kids.
Two weeks later our sons got off the bus. I asked my older son if he had seen his younger brother in school. He put his head down, said no and ran in the opposite direction. I thought it was odd but I didn’t push. He came back a few minutes later and said “I saw him in the nurse’s office”. We questioned why and his response was “to look at our bodies” the entire time he smacked his body and cried. We didn’t push and comforted him the best we could.
Meanwhile, I called and left the nurse a message. That night she called me back. I asked why my children were in her office and why was she looking at their bodies. She said she did it every day to them. Her reason for them being together during this process? My younger son wouldn’t comply. He cried and tried to run so they brought his older brother in to coerce him into compliance. She said it was “protocol”. I asked where the protocol was and she just kept repeating that it was protocol. I asked to see the written protocol. She replied with “it isn’t written”. I informed her that this was against my beliefs on bodily autonomy. She told me that she didn’t need my permission and didn’t need to tell me that it was being done. I informed her that she was grooming my children for a predator. She became angry. She said she had been doing it to my older son for 3 years and it was done twice a day. Wait? Did you just say 3 years? Twice a day? For 3 years you’ve been searching my child’s body without my permission or knowledge? How long did it happen to my younger son? Every day for almost 4 weeks….
I went home and called the police and filed an internal abuse report. The principal spoke to the police and said that we had agreed to body searches but couldn’t provide documentation. The internal abuse investigator came out and talked to our children. He said that if there was no written policy then it was clearly illegal but his investigation could take 90 days.
That night I sat with those records from the nurse and went through them 1 by 1. I found the names of other autistic children on the papers, crossed out to make room for my children’s names.