If zeitgeist be the spirit of the age, then in male terms, I and many other males – but by no means a majority – are out of step.
The zeitgeist I’d say today is female driven – they control all thought in feminist form, which means neurotic, angst driven and illogical, where surging estrogen rules, where limp-wristed males with wispy beards, winning toothy grins and soft natures the girls cannot feel threatened by are the only acceptable form of male in this day and age – the eternal callow youth.
I had a look at this Duncan Laurence of the Netherlands and why he won and immediately went to the gay times to see how they saw him – yep, one of their own. You can never criticise a Duncan Laurence – terribly insensitive don’t you know, when the vulnerable, callow youth with the winning smile is about to fall apart – he might have titled his entry ‘Fragile’.
Trouble is, one does not dislike him and yet what he’s pushing with his naked stunt – and personally, I’d prefer guys to keep their clothes on if it’s all the same to you and leave the nudity to Emily Ratsack or whatever her name is – what he’s pushing is packaged in such a way that any criticism of the whole pussified spectacle has wimmin scorning detractors as rotten neanderthal throwback redneck beasts with bad breath and bestial body odour, probably psoriasis too, about to break out in a bout of clog dancing whilst chewing on a hayseed.
Right bastards we be in the eyes of the pro-tranny, baby-aborting, angst ridden times we’re in.
Downunder, the last of the semi-real men won the election but the Tony Abbotts were rejected in favour of the new female climate loon lawyer, despite him being right on major issues. Andrew Bolt is what we’d call a man but his star is fading – another out of step with the zeitgeist.
The wimmin at Eurovision? The gimmick of one of those meant to win was slick-clad head to foot but had forgotten her knickers, the metal clowns were just that, the wimmin were hard and schlock-ridden, nowhere a decent lady to be found.
What I find depressing is how susceptible even conservative women are to the SNAG, something men of our kind are not.
As for the men, methinks ‘thoughtful’ is what’s required with them, someone with life experience, curmudgeonly rather than ultra-sensitive, not about to break down in bleedin’ tears the moment someone jumps out and says boo.
To the new Eloi, we must seem Morlocks, horrible beasts, unpleasant throwbacks who can’t die off soon enough. To us, the real beasts are the bearded winner some years back, of indeterminate gender.
And violent – observe all the deplatforming, parodied by Godfrey some time back but even he’s completed the metamorphosis now to Titania, the passive-aggressive, brittle new mannish-woman.
Last evening’s was the first Eurovision I’ve not bothered with in any way, having just observed the winning entry now and seeing some of the other schlock in passing. Didn’t miss much, seems to me.
Not so much a song in the true sense of the word, such as Katrina’s or Riverdance or even Abba but more a bleating throwing-about of the voice which is highly regarded by post-millennials it seems, as sensitive, new age singing. Over-produced, auto-tuned.
Just looked at that feminazi song of North Macedonia and an interview in which its a man’s voice, not a woman’s, going effing this, effing that – sigh. Looked at some others – some obese girls. Then the French entry where it can’t decide its gender yet again – great portents for the future of society.
This is what the end of civilisation looks like, eh?