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Monthly Archives: September, 2016

Those Ineffective Agitprops (at According to Hoyt)

US-Flag1My essay on Russian propaganda was published over at Sarah’s the other day, and I’ve been busy running around and failed to link to it.  In it I discuss why Russian propaganda is so effective – especially in the west. There are some people who actually believe that the Soviet system was effective and fair, that there were no bread lines, and if there were, it’s because those greedy Russians insisted on fresh bread every day!

DAFUQ?

Here’s an excerpt.

The Russians don’t make a whole lot of mistakes in the agitprop and brainwashing arena. They indoctrinated generations of young people into worshipping suffering, and compared to their subtle campaigns abroad, the efforts against their own populace were positively hamhanded!

Today’s propaganda efforts are subtle and gradual. From drafting new history books that whitewashed tyranny – both past and present – to positive Russian messages through media outlets such as RT and Sputnik, to the nearly inconspicuous and dignified repatriation of the body of Russian nationalist philosopher Ivan Ilyin, the Russians continue to excel at indoctrination and propaganda. Is it any wonder they are spending billions to purchase media outlets in neighboring countries to spread their message?

Note how eagerly American Marxists fall for Russia’s victim routine.

No, Russians say, they never invaded Crimea! Crimea wanted to separate from Ukraine! There were no little green men, and they certainly weren’t Russian! That’s just a Western ploy to discredit Russia and keep Russia down, because the United States can’t stand to see a successful, sovereign Russia. Oh, and by the way, the US was responsible for manipulating oil prices to ensure that the ensuing sanctions to punish Russia for its actions in Crimea would hurt more!

No, Russia says, life was so much better in the past! There was law and order. There was nationalism. There was love of country and patriotism. All lived for everyone else. We need to turn inwards, says Russia. Do you see how much the West hates us? They impose economic sanctions. They lie about is. They want to cause us economic ruin and steal our resources. Time to look inward and turn away from the evil West.

I think the Russian propaganda efforts provide just the confirmation bias American leftists need to support their lunacy. They’ve never lived it. They don’t understand it. And when Russia says it’s not possible that people stood in bread lines, used wadded up newspaper to wipe their asses, and were, at best, denied employment, and at worst, arrested and sent to the gulag for WrongThink (read: criticizing the mighty state), they want desperately to believe it!

There can’t be suffering and privations when everyone gets the same, right? It’s ultimate equality!

The United States is just evil and is victimizing those poor Russians!

The Soviets took away money and power from those evil capitalists, those evil “rich” until there was no “rich” left and everyone suffered equally (except for those with connections, of course, but we don’t talk about that!).

Literally, every bias the American Marxists have is confirmed by Russian propaganda.

Anyway, so I blogged there. The discussion is quite lively, so enjoy!

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Kicking Cancer’s Ass

As many of you know, I’m huge on charitable giving, promoting worthy causes, and helping out friends. Cancer is one of those things that hits close to home. My mom is a breast cancer survivor, and kicking the ass of cancer is a big deal for me.

holsterYou’ve seen me mention my friend Dennis of Dragon Leatherworks here. He made two phenomenal holsters for me, and a pistol belt I can’t rave enough about. Dennis is phenomenally talented, and generous to a fault, which is why he is participating in a campaign to kick cancer’s ass. I’ve blogged about it previously, and you know how I feel about this issue. Kilted to Kick Cancer is the shit! Here’s some background on why kilts – other than they make men look extraordinarily HAWT!

You mean aside from being the most comfortable garment ever invented by man?  I have never been asked why I am wearing a pink T-shirt.  I have never had the desire to ask a man with a mustache why he has it.  When a man walks into a room wearing a kilt, everyone has the same question…what’s he got on under there?  A kilt demands attention anywhere it goes and we use that attention to start an awkward conversation with men of a certain age.  Most often it is their wives that approach us and get the info, no surprises there.  Kilts attract the ladies.

To join Kilted to Kick Cancer is simple:

Kilt up, get the facts, go about your business.

No walk-a-thons, no branded shampoos, just a man, a kilt and a message…multiplied 10,000 times.  1 man in 7 will be diagnosed with PC in their lifetime.  1 in 36 will be killed by it.  Early recognition and treatment, often with simple changes to diet and exercise, can drastically improve survivability from 28% to 100% in your lifetime.  If you’re age 40 and of African American descent or in a family with a history of PC, talk to your doctor about a PSA blood test.  If you’re 50 talk to your doctor about your PSA and digital exam.  Knowing your risks could save your life.

Yes, there are other cancers out there other than breast cancer, and they’re all dangerous and horrible. And they all need research, awareness, and resources. We need to fight, and I’m doing my part.

Now all that said, Dennis’ contribution to KtKC is not just good for the cause, but could also be good for you! Dennis has gone above and beyond to make the fundraiser worth your while, so he has gotten some amazing and generous people to autograph these beautiful holsters!

holsterFor every $10 donated you get one entry towards a holster that you want to try to win. Multiples of $10 can all go to one rig, or be split out among several. The holsters are Dennis’ signature line of Valkyrie paddle rigs, as follows:

  • Tanburst, 1911 5″, autographed by Dean Cain (actor who played Superman in the 1990’s TV show Lois and Clark.) OK, I’ll say it. Om nom nom nom nom!
  • Tanburst, 1911 5″, autographed by Jesse James of Monster Garage and West Coast Choppers fame.
  • Greenburst with lime green Ostrich Skin and embossed with the MHI logo, autographed by Larry Correia. And yes, it has the MHI logo hand drawn by Larry!!! OMG!!
  • Greenburst with green Kangaroo skin ALONG WITH Mahogany-trimmed Saddle Brown Crocodile skin, autographed by the Motor City Madman himself, Ted Nugent. He signed TWO! Yes, Ted is generous to a fault and is always willing to help out a good cause. Because, duh! He’s Ted!

These holsters are what you could be getting if you donate to KtKC and select Team Dragon from the list of fundraising kilted individuals (Make your selection during the PayPal checkout process…)

tedIf you want to see the holsters up close and personal, just take a look at these here!

Seriously, guys. This is double awesome. Not only will you be helping kick cancer’s ass, but you could also win one of these amazing holsters! Autographed! By awesome people! And BTW – I have one of these holsters for my Glock, and OMG it’s gorgeous!

So go over there, donate just $10 for your chance to win one of these beauties – or more because you want more chances to win and to kick cancer’s ass, and let’s do this!

Because FUCK CANCER!

Things I’d rather be doing than watching the presidential debate tonight

No, I won’t be watching. No, I won’t be giving you a play-by-play. Frankly, it’s because I like my sanity – what little is left of it – and because tonight’s topic is national security, I’d also like to not be fighting the urge to put a fist through my TV for 90 minutes. As a matter of fact, there’s a ton of things I’d rather be doing than watching the debate, so here’s a partial list.

  • Root canal. I love root canals.
  • Playing with raw meat inside an alligator enclosure in Florida.
  • Drinking antifreeze (don’t worry I was a college student once – I’m sure I’ve ingested worse stuff).
  • Being ravaged by a herd of hungry yak.
  • Being torn apart by Walking Dead zombies.
  • Tumbling into a gorilla enclosure.
  • Listening to a fat acceptance lecture by Trigglypuff.
  • Electric shock therapy.
  • Prostate exam. Yes, I know I don’t have one. I don’t care.
  • Reading Damien Walter columns.
  • Giving Michael Moore a sponge bath.
  • Shaving my bikini line with a rusty weed wacker.
  • Sniffing Arthur Cho’s bicycle seat.
  • Having dinner with cannibalistic pygmies.
  • Bathing in my dog’s slobber.
  • Giving my cat a bath.
  • Memorizing the list of gender pronouns now recognized in New York.
  • Two words: Clorox douche.
  • Picking the lint from Mama June’s belly button.
  • Gargling Axe body spray.
  • Having my ovaries removed with a pair of salad tongs. By a blind veterinarian.
  • Discussing Kierkegaard with an ADHD toddler.
  • Expressing Tucker’s anal glands.
  • Expressing ANYONE’S anal glands.

    I'd look ready to kill myself too, if I was forced to wear that shit!

    I’d look ready to kill myself too, if I was forced to wear that shit!

  • Trying on Kanye’s new clothing line (yeah, the one that makes you look like you’re a concentration camp survivor).
  • Having a Twitter conversation with Anthony Weiner.
  • Smelling dog farts.
  • Smelling husband farts after a night of cheap beer.
  • Napping in a snake pit.
  • Working as Kim Kardashian’s gynecologist.
  • Reading the Torah at a KKK gathering.
  • Using a porta-john at a Nickelback concert.
  • Eating my own vomit.
  • Drinking a kale, ketchup, and urine smoothie (giving antifreeze a run for its money).
  • Picking gum off the bottom of a chair in my old high school and chewing it.
  • Listening to Roseanne Barr “sing” the national anthem.
  • Making out with Michael Jackson’s desiccated carcass.
  • Having a rabid ferret chew on my crotch.
  • Snorting hot sauce.
  • Three words: hot tar enema.

Get the message?

 

Don’t watch the new MacGyver if you value your sanity!

I was a fan of the original “MacGyver” with Richard Dean Anderson. I realize the character was the 80s version of anti-gun metrosexual, but I enjoyed the show. It was original, interesting, and interestingly enough, it didn’t take itself so seriously, that it tried to make you feel like a bad person for liking guns and eating meat.

That’s why there was this sixth sense tingling in my head that warned me not to watch the 2016 reboot of the 1980s show.

mcretardOh, dear sneezing fuck! Why the hell didn’t I listen?

Five minutes into this clown show, I was fighting the urge to punch my TV and murder the smarmy millennial twerp punk who somehow managed to get the title role! His urge to explain to the audience what a great and brilliant “secret agent” he is, how he’s got this team of badasses backing him up, how he’s this super genius, who has this super genius girlfriend who has won every science award but the Nobel at the ripe old age of maybe 22, who also happens to be a brilliant “analyst” for his ultra secret organization (and an evil mastermind) and his former Delta Army SEAL Special Forces Green Beret Recon gruff buddy.

Yes, please! Let’s assume the audience is stupid and we’ll be explaining even the basic scientific concepts in painfully boring detail.

Acting: bad.

Directing: worse.

Writing: worst.

Development: painful.

It’s like the producers of this dreck forgot how to do basic research.

Department of External Services? Really? Is that kind of like Sluzhba Vneshnoy Razvedki (The Russian SVR – its external intelligence agency)? Please kill me!

We need to find the virus, or there will be a catastrophe of biblical proportions!

You know what’s a catastrophe of biblical proportions? A badly-written, badly-acted, poorly-researched retread that assumes its audience is stupid and doesn’t even try to achieve a reasonable suspension of disbelief.

Final verdict: Nope. Nope. Nope. Nopity MacNope!

Things that make me want to nuke civilization from space

There are days.

There are days I literally want to shut down my computer and never come near the Internet again, and yet, I’m drawn to this collective psychosis we call “the world wide web,” like a moth to a flame… or one of those crackly lights that will kill the moth the moment it touches the bulb. Like a motorist who can’t help but rubberneck at a wreck on the side of the road, I had to open this. Immediately upon clicking on the link, I began to hit myself over the head with a metaphorical brick. WHY??

My recent article about ‘willy-cloning’ was greeted with such interest and hilarity on social media that the company responsible for the kits – Empire Labs, of Portland, Oregon – got in touch to ask if I fancied trying out a female version, the charmingly named ‘Clone a Pussy‘.

If that opening paragraph doesn’t make you die a little inside, this will.

The first thing to note is that Clone a Pussy does not create a model of the vagina itself – I can only imagine what sort of mess that would make with the moulding gel.

Instead, it creates a reasonably accurate copy of the vulva – the outside bits.

So while the male version can be put to, shall we say, practical use after construction, the female clone is for decorative purposes only.

audreyWho in the everblasting, rollerblading fuck would want to decorate their house with anything resembling a vagoo – inside or out? Sorry, but it’s not, in and of itself, an attractive body part. It’s pink. It’s hairy (unless you go the extra mile to de-fur). It’s oddly similar to Audrey 2 from “Little Shop of Horrors” sans teeth or blood lust.

“Oh, I know what this living room is missing! A set of labia vaguely slug-like in appearance! Perfect! Now let me just frame it and hang it riiiiiiight… over here.”

Yeahno, Cupcake! It ain’t pretty. It’s utilitarian. There’s certainly nothing embarrassing about it, but it ain’t art!

The second thing that made me want to hide under my desk today. Women paying for “expert vagina massages.”

They’re called gigolos, you daft bints. They’re getting you off for money. Calling it something different doesn’t change its nature.

Now, I’m all for the free market. Seriously. If a consenting adult wants to sell their… services for money to another consenting adult, more power to y’all! Have at it! But let’s not pretend it’s anything other than what it is. As I told She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named when I found out she was dancing at a strip club in West Virginia instead of working as a waitress, “You are an adult, and you can do with your body as you please, but if you’re going to be a whore, be an honest whore.”

Third thing that makes me throat punch a hippie, apparently women just can’t do science. Why? Because TEH FEELZ!

The syllabi for college-level STEM courses—science, technology, engineering, and mathematics—are “gendered” because they promote the idea that knowledge can be ascertained through reason. This is a masculine concept that hurts women’s feelings and makes it difficult for them to succeed.

That’s according to “Are STEM Syllabi Gendered? A Feminist Critical Discourse Analysis” of the STEM syllabi at one Midwestern university. The discourse was authored by the University of North Dakota’s Laura Parson, and published in The Qualitative Report earlier this year.

It presupposes that certain stylistic choices—command words like “will” and “must”—are inherently masculine and anti-woman, and then sets out to determine whether these words show up in STEM syllabi. Since a syllabus is not a negotiation, but rather, a set of instructions about how to succeed in a given class, they do indeed contain lots of commands.

Parson needs to stop embarrassing all women and take up a distinctly feminine feminist field that shall not force her pretty, dainty, weak self to conform to those pesky facts that chafe her tender labia. (If you notice a vagina theme here… Yeah, there is one.)

Try Kvetching 101, or the advanced “Taking Offense 300 – Strategies in Silencing the Opposition.”

Go with “Ruminations in Third-Wave Feminist Thought – The Best Three Minutes of Your Life,” or “Tears: Your Ultimate Weapon Against the CisWhitePatriarchy.”

But stay the fuck out of the sciences or anything else requiring logical thought. Please!

And then there’s this piece of spewed dreck onto a computer screen that makes the ages old claim that white people inherently racist and privileged.

If you’re like me, growing up, the word “Black” was always spoken of in whispers in your family. It was like we were saying something taboo. Why was that? Because it was taboo. We might feel more comfortable saying “African-American,” but not “Black.” The reason is that we were raised to believe that “colorblindness” was the ideal for whites. We were taught that we shouldn’t “see color.” And saying the word “Black” was an acknowledgment of the fact that we did “see color.”

Well, thank dog I’m nothing like you, hipster douche Omega male! I can and have said the word “black” throughout my childhood and my adulthood. I do recognize color – the fact that it exists and that some of us have more melanin in our skin than others. I just don’t give a fuck. There, I said it. Beyond recognizing that there are different hues to human beings, I just don’t care. My black friends (there, I said it, you emasculated coward) make me just as happy as my white friends. Know why? Because they’re wonderful human beings. So go fuck yourself. You don’t speak for me, and I would wager that aside from a few guilt-ridden about their own whiteness, braindead Snowflakes, you don’t speak for any other white people either. Moron.

Then there’s this bit from the Santa Clara County Office of Education

Did you know that mispronouncing a student’s name negates the identity of the student? This can lead to anxiety and resentment which, in turn, can hinder academic progress. Help us build positive school culture and promote respect to students and families.

Crying-Baby-PicturesWell, holy microaggressing fuck!

So the identity of the individual isn’t based on accomplishments, intelligence, intellectual curiosity, ability, or anything else related to those antediluvian norms. The identity of the individual is based entirely on what the kid’s parents might or might not have been smoking at the time when they decided to name their little precious North West or Chanda Leer.

As someone whose last name was consistently butchered by teachers in school, I understand the embarrassment when a teacher struggles to phonetically spell a foreign name, only to fail miserably. I get having to preemptively pronounce your name before the teacher stumbles like a drunken clown, making all the other kids giggle. But could we possibly get some damn perspective here, people?

Getting little Nevaeh’s or Reighleigh’s (no, really – that’s Riley) name wrong won’t traumatize her/him/it/whatever. It won’t destroy their identity, unless they’re being raised by weak-minded parents, who don’t teach them where their value comes from, which I suspect is the case for many of these poor kids, whose parents think naming them something “cool” and “different” will garner them respect without having to actually accomplish anything to earn it. Trying too hard to be original? Don’t. If your child has an ethnic name, be understanding. Recognize that not everyone is going to get it right from the first get-go, and that it’s not a slight against you, your ethnicity, or your child. In other words, stop being a special fucking snowflake!

Thank dog it’s Friday. I can avoid stupid on the weekends… I think.

 

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