Nothing To See Here – Move Along

Global warming is not a real thing. Check out all the indicators.

Real Science

Northern Hemisphere winter snow extent is going through the roof, due to Arctic air pushing further south.

BvElMTCCAAAfGr6Rutgers University Climate Lab :: Global Snow Lab

Antarctic sea ice extent is going through the roof

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Great Lakes spring ice cover obliterated all previous records.


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US summer temperatures are plummeting

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US major hurricane strikes peaked 60 years ago, and are the lowest on record.

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HURDAT Re-analysis Chronological List of All Hurricanes

US forest fire count is plummeting, and is the lowest in three decades.

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National Interagency Fire Center

There has been no change in global temperatures during the lifetime of any school child

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The US is actually wetter than normal over the past year

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Climate at a Glance: Time Series | National Climatic Data Center (NCDC)

Arctic sea ice has grown by more than 60% over the past two years. Green shows gain since this date in…

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Personal Sexual Preferences are Not Shame-Worthy

Today it is apparently not OK to have sexual preferences that limit eligible partners unless one has a firm political and social allegiance with either “The Left” or “The Right”. It is apparently a greater social sin today to be politically and ideologically unaffiliated in one’s sexual preferences than to be sexually discriminatory based on any attributes whatsoever.

For example, if one is both “Progressive” and either a member of a sexual minority or female, then it is OK to have preferences. In fact, if one has the proper certifications and affiliations one can have a sexual preference for blind albino vegetarian intersexed dwarves with Central Asian ancestry and eschew all others without any social stigma. Otherwise, one is obligated to accept into one’s bed all comers provided of course they adhere to the same political and social ideologies of the proper affiliation.

To further illustrate the point, the director, John Waters, once admonished, “If you go home with somebody, and they don’t have books, don’t fuck ’em!”

One presumes that this directive was issued prior to the advent of electronic books and reading devices. In my view, it is fine for Mr. Waters to state his preference and position with regard to his discriminating taste of sexual partners and even to admonish others to follow his lead but it is not OK for hysteric, chanting, parrots to invade the bedrooms of suspected deviants from this policy and otherwise engage in “gang shaming” or censorship. For to discriminate against the illiterate is to discriminate against the brainwashed, dyslexic, and underprivileged, and such behavior is only socially sanctioned when it is performed by the female feminist, homosexual, transsexual, or minority. A white heterosexual male (Waters is gay) would be called “elitist” if he were to adopt Waters’ stance.

In my view, if any “gang shaming” is socially permitted with regard to any sexual preference whatsoever then they should all be permitted. Actually, free speech, in my view, is of more importance than political correctness but “right to privacy” trumps the expression of free speech within one’s private domain meaning that ultimately one’s sexual preferences or practices as well as distastes ought not to be the business of nonparticipants. It would also seem that “freedom from association” is a right worth fighting for. My bed, for example, is not an equal opportunity employer and my tastes are esoteric.

Censoring an “offensive” article that expresses the author’s sexual preferences including “likes” and “dislikes” is hypocritical unless all “likes” and “dislikes” are prohibited. It doesn’t matter to me if the writer is repulsed by transsexuals or metrosexuals. It is all the same to me and none of my business. If he is repulsed by “Amazonian blondes” such as myself, then he has done me the tremendous favor of alerting me not to waste my time on him. Allow me to express my gratitude now to all men who have made their distaste of me abundantly clear. Thank you! Your respect for my time and energy is appreciated.

On “The Right” it is perfectly OK to confine one’s sexual activity to one person of the opposite sex and the same race and belief system for purposes of reproduction. On “The Left” it is perfectly OK to confine one’s sexual activity to all persons who state that their political beliefs are “politically correct”. However, whether one is on “The Left” or “The Right” it is apparently not correct to deviate from the group-think position while engaging in private acts. It is also not OK to “think” anything “bad” or to otherwise have distaste for the predominant preference.

In other words, on the left, the only “body shaming” that is permitted is toward white heterosexual males. For example, if a white heterosexual male is unable to summon up arousal for a gay man, transwoman, obese woman, or bisexual woman this is apparently a sin against political correctness. Gang shaming such a man is supposed to correct his failure to be aroused. I doubt that such a tactic is effective.

However, shaming a woman for any sexual discrimination whatsoever is confined to “The Right” which in itself seems to promote an in-race monogamy bias. Whereas we often hear the feminist left chanting, “No means no.” White heterosexual males are not permitted “No” however, for that would be “transphobia,” “homophobia,” “racism,” “body shaming,” or “misogyny.”

A Date With the Dancers

Shortly before I turned 18, I moved to San Francisco, a place I had lived before as a teenaged runaway. After setting myself up in an apartment with two male roommates, a decent job as a switchboard operator for a hospital, and a circle of friends, I invited a college friend from Vermont to join me. When she arrived, I surprised her with a place to stay and a job cleaning the house of an attorney—a confirmed slob and cocaine abuser. But I knew that she could handle him well enough and she did.

Some months later, she invited me to come join her at a new nightclub being that she was dating one of the independent entertainers therein and he offered to not only waive our cover charge and take care of our two-drink minimum, but guarantee us front row seating for the entertainment. Of course, I agreed. It was a male exotic dance performance.

In holding the position of the lead table, my girlfriend and I had a responsibility to perform. We were to show the other ladies in the audience the proper protocols. After watching our “performance”, the other ladies in the audience might be inclined to follow our lead in their comportment with the dancers—most of whom happened to be gay. For the dancers, this was just a job not an invitation to be mauled by lathered up gropers unaccustomed to the amount of liquor they would be consuming and unaccustomed to the presence of scantily clad male bodies in close proximity. It is unfortunate that even back then, in the 80’s, women could not be expected to properly comport themselves when out for a debauched and drunken evening with the girls. They treated those poor dancers like pieces of meat. The myth that all men welcomed such mauling—including professional entertainers—resulted in some truly appalling behavior—so I was told. It rang true. I had found myself in the position of “rescuing” men from unwanted advances by some uncouth female slobs in the past and so was well-acquainted with the phenomenon.

Although I had never had quite the same opportunity before, I took to my responsibility like I was born to it. I was not one of those to have swallowed the myth of constant male sexual availability even if my own experiences—a hot, blond, teen-aged runaway, hitch-hiking, early college student—might suggest that the myth was actually true.

As each dancer arrived, I would pull my chair slightly away from my table with my hands at my sides. This would allow the dancer to straddle me, shake his junk in my face, etc. At some point I would extract a dollar bill from my pocket, place it in my teeth and then maneuver it into his gyrating G-string. Great fun. The dollars were my own.

It should be noted that being that we were both under 21, my girlfriend and I were patronizing the establishment illegally.

There was one other thing going on and that was this, my girlfriend’s date told me that I could have for my own pleasure the private company of the dancer of my choice—provided that he was straight and otherwise agreed to the arrangement. To that end, my girlfriend’s date would regularly come out and chat with us, in his civilian clothes, to check on my progress in that endeavor.

I would make mention of my appreciation for the various dancers, however, each one who I found attractive enough to take to bed was gay. Finally, in desperation, I asked my girlfriend’s date to just come out and tell me who the straight ones were. For what it is worth, the straight men were decidedly less fit and otherwise less put together than the gay ones. Nevertheless, I was able to make a selection.

Meanwhile, there was a commotion in the back of the club with shouting and shrieking. It turns out that one of the patrons had—for purposes of economy—cut her dollar bills in half. She was literally “stretching her dollars” in order to obtain maximum coverage of the G strings of the exotic dancers. How dreadfully embarrassing for my gender.

As I got ready to leave, I gave my girlfriend’s date my address and then went home. An hour or so later, I heard a knock on the door, and my “date” arrived.

I suppose he fucked me silly. I don’t actually remember. There wasn’t anything particularly remarkable about the experience.

I suppose it shouldn’t have surprised me that he hit me up for $20 “gas money”. That’s the funny thing about being a responsible adult—one attracts whores. This wouldn’t be my first time on this end of the bargain albeit a little negotiation ahead of time would have saved me from the experience. It wasn’t as if I was hurting for offers! Meanwhile my current level of income barely kept a roof over my head and so the notion that I would budget for whores just wasn’t realistic. Besides, if I had wanted to hire a whore I would have specified what I wanted as opposed to just being “a good sport” with the man taking the lead.

Whereas my girlfriend continued to date the dancer, I didn’t avail myself of any more “free” evenings at the nightclub. Even if it took some years to discover that most straight men in San Francisco engaged in deliberate “ugly-fying” in order to distinguish themselves from the well-groomed gays, I lost interest in professional “pretty boys”.

However, the point I wish to make in this story is that women have been behaving badly for quite some time and therefore protests that the “modern” version of feminism—whatever one wants to call it—is somehow “worse” than other forms of feminism doesn’t stand up to my experience. Rather, I would say that fetishizing femininity is the conceit of mama’s boys if demonizing masculinity is a fine sleight of hand accomplished by our aristocracy investor-class for the purpose of lowering the value of labor.