Half Of All White Women Are Stupid

And no, it’s not the half referred to by this silly Brit tart in The Grauniad, it’s the half of all White women who stupidly continue to vote for the Socialists.  Here’s why I think this.

I’m always told that women have a built-in need for security (created by thousands of years of conditioning for being the — physically — weaker sex).  This, we are assured, is why women continue to vote for Big Government parties such as proposed by the Socialists — that women’s social safety is guaranteed by Gummint — despite all the evidence collected over recent decades that the Big Government parties provide anything but security.

As an example, I wonder how many of the millions of women who have fled the Big-Government paradises of, say, Venezuela or Cuba would vote again for a socialist government (assuming, of course, that said government would allow them to vote against the Party).

And with such evidence clearly apparent to all, why then would any White women even consider letting the socialists (or the Socialist Party U.S.A.) become the ruling government party?

Well, the simple answer is that despite all the evidence of socialist failures, half of White women are stupid enough either to remain ignorant of, or to willfully ignore said evidence, and continue to support the party which promises that Big Brother Government will take care of all security issues.

Rush Limbaugh is of the opinion that such stupidity can only come from having attended college, which pushes the “all Marxism, all the time” agenda through the various “-Studies” courses.  Using the Grauniad bint’s own words to illustrate the point, try this one on for size:

White women’s identity places them in a curious position at the intersection of two vectors of privilege and oppression: they are granted structural power by their race, but excluded from it by their sex. In a political system where racism and sexism are both so deeply ingrained, white women must choose to be loyal to either the more powerful aspect of their identity, their race, or to the less powerful, their sex. Some Republican white women might lean into racism not only for racism’s sake, but also as a means of avoiding or denying the realities of how sexist oppression makes them vulnerable.

Anytime a writer uses a scientific word like “vector” and applies it to a social situation, there is a 99.99% chance that this application was learned at a university.  (Donegan then goes on to worshipfully quote the late (and much-discredited) ultra-feminist harpy Andrea Dworkin, which of course should disqualify her entire thesis to any rational human being, male or female.  But try this stretch:

What is wrong with white women? Why do half of them so consistently vote for Republicans, even as the Republican party morphs into a monstrously ugly organization that is increasingly indistinguishable from a hate group? The most likely answer seems to be that white women vote for Republicans for the same reason that white men do: because they are racist. Trump, with his raucous rallies and his bloviating, combative style, has offered his supporters an opportunity to savor the pleasures of being cruel. It is likely that the white women who voted for him in 2016, and who will vote for him again in 2020, find this racist sadism gratifying. It is fun for them.

If I were a rational White woman — i.e. one who doesn’t buy into any of the lies of socialism any more — I’d be steaming with rage about now at having this race-guilt bullshit applied to them.

Because that’s all Donegan’s piece is:  a transparent attempt to shame White women to stay in the socialist mindset, or if not already there, to move into it.

What’s even more risible is Donegan’s characterization of the two American political parties, viz.:

There is a battle on for the soul of America, between the peevish, racist cruelty of Trump and his supporters and a vision of inclusion, justice, and decency forwarded by an increasingly diverse coalition on the left.

Let me be as succinct as I can, here.

The “increasingly diverse coalition on the left” is not inclusive (hence the demonization of White women as racist).  Nor does this coalition favor justice (“believe the woman and ignore the evidence”).  As for decency… fucking hell, let’s ask Brett Kavanaugh, Heidi Cruz, Elaine Chao, Nikki Haley and Kirstjen Nielsen how well the Left “forwards” that  behavior.

As always with the Left, it’s all a pack of lies — all of it, without exception — and what truly gladdens me is that at least half of all White women have realized that, are not fooled, and refuse to have any truck with them.

Long may that attitude continue, and grow.  For all our sakes.

Bring Him Over

I see that a bunch of Brit pantywaist MPs are shocked — shocked!  — that celebrity rightwinger Tommy Robinson wants to come over to the U.S. and they’re doing something about it:

Robinson, a founder and former member of the far-Right group the English Defence League, has been invited to speak at an event in Washington later this month.
He is understood to be waiting for authorisation under the U.S.’s ESTA system before embarking on the trip, which opponents fear could open up new sources of funding for his campaigns.
A cross-party group of MPs has now written to the Trump’s administration’s Mike Pompeo, head of the U.S. State department, insisting Robinson should not be allowed to use the trip to ‘promote his violent and extremist agenda’.

Once again, stupid fucking Brit politicians demonstrate that they know nothing about our political system.  You see [he explained patiently]  we have this thing called the “First Amendment” to our Constitution which explains quite clearly that if someone wants to suggest that allowing hordes of radical Muslim assholes into a country is not A Good Thing, then he can go right ahead and say it.

In fact, if Pompeo accedes to their pathetic little complaint, I would suggest that he needs a kick in the balls and should be given some remedial study of said Constitution.  (I can’t imagine that he would even listen to these morons let alone stop Robinson from coming in, but stranger things have happened.)

I can’t get up to D.C. to see Robinson in action, but I await the inevitable video of his speech with bated breath.  (I bet it turns out to be quite innocuous, in American terms anyway.)

Fucking Brit politicians are all a bunch of timorous neo-totalitarians, regardless of party — and if Pompeo is going to ban anyone from coming over here, it should be these fifty MPs, for attempting to stifle freedom of speech.  Now that I’d get behind.

Gentle Reminder

Just in case anyone has forgotten (and shame on you if you did), this coming Monday November 19th will be National Ammo Day — which, given the upcoming transfer of Congressional power to the Socialist Party, makes Ammo Day’s rationale all the more meaningful.

For those who’ve been living on the Planet Manhattan and didn’t get the word, the principle is simple:

Buy one hundred (100) rounds of ammunition or more on November 19th.  Corollary:  if you eschew factory ammo and roll your own, then buy sufficient powder, primers, casings and bullets to create more ammo — the quantity is up to you — OR buy a brick (500 rounds) or more of .22LR.

That’s it.

The goal of Ammo Day is quite simple:  to put a billion additional rounds of ammunition into civilian ownership on a single day.

Make your plans accordingly.

One Hundred Years On

At 11.00am on this day in 1918, the guns at last fell silent.

Of course, the armistice came too late for millions upon millions.

For the Fallen by Robert Laurence Binyon

With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children,
England mourns for her dead across the sea.
Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of her spirit,
Fallen in the cause of the free.

Solemn the drums thrill: Death august and royal
Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres.
There is music in the midst of desolation
And a glory that shines upon our tears.

They went with songs to the battle, they were young,
Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted,
They fell with their faces to the foe.

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.

They mingle not with their laughing comrades again;
They sit no more at familiar tables of home;
They have no lot in our labour of the day-time;
They sleep beyond England’s foam.

But where our desires are and our hopes profound,
Felt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight,
To the innermost heart of their own land they are known
As the stars are known to the Night;

As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust,
Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain,
As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness,
To the end, to the end, they remain.

Sacrificing All For Beauty

Back in the early 1990s, there were essentially three “production” sports cars vying for the title of “fastest”:  the Ferrari F40 with a 2.9-liter V8 engine, the Porsche 959 with a 2.8-liter flat-6, and the Jaguar XJ220 with a 3.5-liter V6, all three featuring twin turbos.  While all were nominally production models, only a couple-three hundred of each were ever made because they were designed specifically to compete at Le Mans in the then-Group B class.  To just about everyone’s surprise, the car with the highest straight-line speed was the Jag, at 217mph.

But that’s not what I want to talk about today.

As always in posts of this type, the thing is pointless without pictures, so here we go, in order:

All three are beautiful by the standards of the time:  the F40 because Ferrari;  the Porsche despite being a Porsche (I actually think the 959 was the nicest-looking Porsche ever made until the Cayman);  and the XJ220 was gorgeous even in a marque which had always made beautiful cars (XK120, E-type, etc.).

All three are crap to drive — the F40 has a spartan, ugly interior with a hideously-stiff clutch and gearbox, the 959 was also a handful (although the toughest of the three:  in 1986 the 959 entries finished 1st and 2nd in the Dakar Rally), and as for the XJ220, let me quote one of the reviews of the time:

The testers liked the “sheer blistering pace, looks and a superb cabin” but its size, the doors not opening far enough and handling were criticised:  “If there’s a more evil device on our roads, I wouldn’t like to find it, for the XJ220 suffers from immense initial understeer followed by violent and snappy pendulous oversteer.”  Most disappointing was the engine;  at idle it sounded “like someone’s clanking a bucket of rusty nails together”.

However, given that these beauties were never intended to be “passenger” cars, all the above can possibly be forgiven.

The last pic, that of the XJ220, is a special one.  I took it at the Salon Privé at Blenheim Palace over a year ago (full report here and here), and I have to tell you, with all of the automotive beauty on display that day, the XJ220 quite simply took my breath away.  It looked like a jaguar [sic] : feral, sleek and dangerous, and even in repose, it seemed to be begging someone to drive it really, really fast.  I’d never seen one in the flesh before, unlike the other cars listed above — and good grief, my carlust was almost ungovernable that day.

I suspect that others may feel the same way, not necessarily about the XJ220 but about the other two, or others.  So, Gentle Readers and fellow Gear Knobs:  which cars make you forget how terrible they may be to drive simply because they’re so beautiful?

Responses in Comments (or by email, if you prefer).  I’ll make the best three suggestions the subject of next Saturday’s post, and add pictures if necessary.