I don’t have a television subscription anymore. I use the Amazon Fire for my video entertainments. It’s a useful device for those who have cut the cord. One of the apps on the thing is for SkyNews, the Murdoch propaganda platform that is the retarded little brother of the BBC. It’s pitched as the “conservative” alternative to the government run BBC, which means it is pretty much just a ruling class echo.
I was working on a small project in the living room so I put on the television to see if there was something worth watching. SkyNews had a program on about the latest Muslim mayhem in London, so I thought I’d give that a go. It was some sort of panel show, hosted by a guy who looked like a homeless man. He was an old guy kitted out to look like a college professor, but he was so shabby, he looked more like a bum than a professor.
The Mr. Chips routine remains popular on television news. They take a stupid person, dress him up to look like a college professor and then have him say his lines with an avuncular voice. Hilariously, the actors they have playing these roles on the news are almost always as dumb as hamsters. I guess a degree of dullness allows the actor to play the part without any self-regard. Maybe it is just one of life’s little ironies.
Anyway, the old gasbag droned on for a few minutes at the start, reminding us of the proper way to virtue signal about these Muslim attacks. He was also careful to make clear that no one, under any circumstances, is to speculate about why Muslims keep going bonkers and attacking people in Western cities. In fact, he was careful to not use the word “Muslim” and even suggested that the man’s identity remained a mystery.
Then, it got ridiculous. It was a panel show so the hobo went around and introduced his panelists. It was four women, all in their prime powerskirt years. These are the years when a powerskirt is still feeling the biological clock so she is not entirely without hope of being a women, but she is at her maximum anger at reality for not yielding to the latest feminist pieties. Of course, one was black and another South Asian, because that’s who we are!
The first powerskirt to speak sounded like a JohnRivers parody on Gab. She opened with how much she cares about the victims and how passionate she is for victim’s rights. Powerskirts are always passionate about stuff, just like Hitler. She then lurched into a tangle of sentences about how this incident opens the doors for hate and how any assault on London’s multiculturalism is far worse than a few white people being murdered.
What’s striking about watching these modern lunacies acted out with British accents is it makes the lunacy so much more obvious. What the hell does “open the door for hate” even mean? I bet the stupid twat who said it has no idea either. It just appeals to the fevered female mind. Similarly, they have deified the word “multiculturalism” as if it is a real thing, when in fact, it is just a word for the nullification of culture.
The funny thing about her little performance was that you could see her nostrils flaring and her cheeks getting a bit flushed. Maybe she is well-trained, but my take was she really meant every word of the nonsense she was saying. That or she was sexually aroused by it. Who knows, maybe the thought of being slaughtered by Muslim savages is arousing to these people. It’s not entirely out of the question, given the state of men these days.
That really is the issue. The men of our ruling class have no pride or self-respect. They got to where they are, largely untested as men, so they have no sense of achievement. As a result, the women have no respect for them or the culture they are supposed to symbolize. Consequently, we have a ruling class populated by hand-wringing pussies and terminally pissed off women, looking with envy at those swarthy guys on the border.
I snapped it off, thinking that it would probably be a good thing if an Exploding Mohamed walked into the station and ended things for all of them. Frankly, if I was walking outside the studio and Mohamed came running toward the entrance, I’d offer to hold the door for him. The people inside are hostile strangers to me. The only thing I know about them is they hate me for reasons I cannot address. Otherwise, I don’t know them.
That is the the final resting place of multiculturalism. A people without a shared past cannot have a shared future. The Muslim invader cannot look around the landmarks of London and feel pride. His people did not build these things. His ancestors were on the wrong end of a bayonet charge by the people who built Big Ben and London Bridge. The people who made these things are strangers. Their descendants are strangers to him.
Men cannot live as isolated, transactional economic units. Nature abhors it. It’s why the gray featureless world our rulers imagine is so horrifying to the Mohammedan. It’s why populist movements are sprouting up all over the West. Man is a social creature. In order to have strong bonds with each other, we must share strong bonds with our past. The people who rule over us must share those bonds too. They cannot be strangers.
It’s why, after every one of these attacks, the powerskirts and hand-wringing pussies rush out to fret about The Backlash™. At some level, they know that the real threat to their position is not the random muzzie, strapped with explosives screaming “Allahu Akbar!”, rushing into the offices of SkyNews or into Parliament. The real danger, what they truly fear, is that guy deciding to hold the door for Akmed. Then it’s all over for them.