Leftist Rape Camp

I am so fed up with Leftist, Liberal, and “What about my Legacy?” Republican whining that I have decided to confess. With enough torture I can be persuaded to spill my guts all over their parade and, what’s worse, irregardless of further whining to the contrary, this idea of mine is one that they’re going to like.

Peace shall reign.

First of all, let us identify the problem. (Inspired by David Cole’s, Black Cop, Drunk Jew, White City):

One of the many sociologically damaging effects of smoking bans is that places where people tend to talk—live—with each other, such as cafes, diners, and bars, now function as portable offices, get-them-in-get-them out affairs, and fermentation tanks. Back before smoking bans, a cop could show up at a cafe, diner, or bar, drink some coffee or soft drinks, smoke, and chit-chat with the owner, employees, and patrons such as to find out about new developments in the precinct and perhaps thereby prevent crimes of greater sociological significance than smoking infractions.

—Excerpted from my Disqus comment.

Is it possible, that the recent smoking ban in New Orleans has set off a powder keg?

In California, youth-obsessed but perpetually parched, desert-dwelling, and well-divorced women effectively run the politics of the state. I’ll venture that perhaps tobacco smoke is not compatible with the lungs of fat-free vegetarians and therefore, perhaps, a tad more offensive to same than paranoia-inducing marijuana.

A more serious issue however that applies to every state in the U.S. is that there is a severe man shortage!

My recommendation to solving these problems is that lovely spa-like Non-Profit, Sliding Scale Bordello/Mental Health centers be built in California or, better yet, perhaps some of its prisons can be revitalized and re-purposed with green spaces, gardens, and meditation centers.

Men can be encouraged to volunteer to perform community service at these Life Enhancement Centers by first submitting to “Line Ups” and then allow the well-moneyed to bid on them or even virtuously donate them to their less endowed sisters, for a well-supervised, politically-correct, hour long “session”.

Women could pay for luxury accommodations therein and pay into funds for purposes of accommodating their less fortunate sisters.

Hospitality lobbies of all sorts could also be encouraged to donate, as well as solicit donations from their patrons.

Of course, these Feminine Massage Centers would be smoke free, provide healthy snacks, and safe sex materials.

Meanwhile, the rest of the nation can be free to lift all smoking bans.

12 thoughts on “Leftist Rape Camp

  1. Man shortage?
    WHAT man shortage?
    We’re all over here, smoking under this tree!
    Just follow the sound of coughing squirrels.
    But not if you’re just comin’ over to bitch…..

  2. Pingback: Leftist Rape Camp – Manosphere.org

  3. Male recruits who volunteer to perform their community service at these Hysteria Treatment Centers would of course be allowed to specify their own requirements in terms of their own consent within the exchange. For example, the female resort guest might be tactfully persuaded to first submit to a straight-jacket, ball gag, hood, anti-psychotic…

  4. Book excerpt is accurate. When I started as a rookie, the veteran cop I was partnered with, would stop by a bar, we would walk in, the bartender would put up shot glasses and we had two shots for lunch. A couple cigarettes later, we caught up on all the local intelligence of crime and any problem people that we should keep an extra close watch on. Then we went back on patrol. Different times.
    The barrooms had remained the best local source of information throughout my career, but On-Duty, it would be Club Soda on the rocks with a twist of lemon. Pack of cigarettes on top of the bar if any length of time was required, and always left a tip, anyway. A dollar or two, and if something substantial, a twenty. Barrooms always had the freshest non-filter cigarettes and for others maybe two brands of filters that were fresh. When New York City went to non-smoking, I was long retired, but on a visit to the old stationhouse, I would later stop off at a watering hole or two, but they were nearly empty except for a couple of immature younger people. Poolhalls, were as empty as a cemetery at midnight. A cops primary sources of shoe-leather intelligence, gone.

    • I used to love going to New York City. Now it’s like this post-apocalyptic sanitized dystopia. What you describe is what I think of as “the good old days.”

      As a former teenaged runaway, I’ve had some less than positive encounters with the police (they kept sending me home, the bastards).

      However, getting to know individual cops in casual surroundings (rather than D.A.R.E. lectures, which came much later) improves understanding and cooperation.

      Had I had such an opportunity, while I was slipping into bars with a convincing fake ID, I might have been able to be legally emancipated sooner rather than merely shipped back to a polite Hell, or worse, juvey.

      Casual communication between police and the hospitality business community is how “community” and “main street” is built.

      • You viewed the world, from the eyes of a runaway teenage girl. I used to see many turning tricks or strung out on drugs. I also saw a few who were victims of homicide. Too many times, throughout my career, I would have to go to morgues, and witnessed autopsies. The sustained wounds. Teens who should have had every reason to be alive and happy, were on the autopsy table, exhaust fans running, their thoracic and abdominal cavities wide open. Too many were never identified, and went to medical students and embalming students, only to be buried four months later. I believe the motivation of police was to keep you safe from the predators on the streets. At times, home situations are not the best. At other times, I saw that it was the kids who turned immediately rebellious against their family. Six of one, half dozen of the other.

      • It’s quite the challenge. I was neither turning tricks nor seriously into drugs. Social workers couldn’t penetrate the dysfunction either and neither could psychiatrists. Eventually I got myself a scholarship and this “prestige” saved some face.

        Obviously, I learned how to get by but it was by associating with criminals, by definition, until I managed to reach age of majority and thereby professionally employable–all with small legitimate computer technology businesses willing to take the chance on me.

        Eventually, all entrepreneurial ventures it would seem will be either nepotistic, crony, criminal, offshore, foreign-run, or all of the above, given the overreaching state.

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