Archives For Culture

Frame control is a funny thing. Often times it’s so conceptually fundamental that it eludes palpability, but any non-superficial understanding of social dynamics provides a simple truth: frame control is the singular source of social power. In general terms, frame is purely an individualistic interpretation of reality as a whole, and implicit therein is the existence of an objective reality. Meaning: things are what they are, but a given frame is the particular manner in which that reality (or subset of reality) is perceived. Take, for example, global warming. In objective terms, either the earth is progressively witnessing an increase in surface temperature, or it’s not. That’s it. The politics of it, from corporate energy taxes to school recycling programs to oil prices, are borne out of a frame that perceives global warming as either an imminent threat to human civilization or a farcical cultural concoction. All of that, at the end of the day, remains frivolous. To really examine the issue requires grasping the underlying objective reality.

As I’ve grown to dissect modern human social dynamics layer by painstaking layer, the lone certainty I’ve discovered is the simultaneous universality and invisibility of frame. That is, frame does not identify itself nor does it preface an argument; it simply assumes. One of the most frustrating aspects of Western feminism, for example, is the blanket assumption that men (really speaking, boys ages 5 and up) exist solely and exclusively for the service of the females that surround them. It is upon this frame that the tower of modern female psychology rests–and any man who dares to question it finds himself the victim of the screeching hordes.

Imagine my surprise, then, at the treatment of the Brittney Griner story by the mainstream cultural behemoth. We have a male NBA owner who finds himself genuinely impressed with the physical talents of a female college basketball player–and, indeed, at 6’8″ and 208 pounds, its not outlandish to imagine that she may very well have what it takes. Now, given what we know of a starkly feminist media that jumps on any opportunity to propagate an anti-male frame, we expect this story to absolutely blow up. A woman invading male professional sports? This is socially and culturally revolutionary, mind you. When an eight year old girl beats her male peers at kiddie football, it goes to far as to make the news ticker on CNN, ABC, ESPN and NFL Network. So you can understand my shock at the relatively quick dissolution of the Britney Griner story. Where were the screeching cunts forcing Griner to be drafted with the No. 1 overall pick in the 2013 NBA draft? Where were the old spinsters who repeated the story day after day, week after week, until it was pounded into our collective heads and Griner finally put on an official NBA jersey?

Ewwww, you smell!

Are Baylor’s female athletes secretly jealous of us?

Not only were nearly all feminist vaginas taped shut on this issue, but lo and behold they yelled angrily in protest of it! Watch how carefully Jemele Hill re-frames the argument: “What I don’t like about Cuban’s comments is that it perpetuates the dangerous idea that great female athletes need to validate themselves by competing against men.” My jaw dropped in abject disbelief at the magnitude of this re-frame*. It is a pure, utterly shameless 180 degree turn. The decade long cries for egalitarianism between male and female athletics, the very same cultural ideologies behind Title IX and the banning of wrestling from the Olympics, are abruptly defenestrated, only to be replaced by the notion that ‘women must be appreciated within their own sphere’. Note that the fact that such an idea contradicts the very foundations of feminist doctrine is unimportant–what’s important is the only the desired result. And in Britney Griner’s case, what is  the outcome our feminist cunt-masses secretly and desperately yearn for? That Griner not come close to the playing in the NBA.

Women like Jemele Hill re-frame the issue to accuse men yet again, only this time from the standpoint that we fail to appreciate women unless they happen to be competing at the same standards as men. What she really wants, like all feminists, is the secret to be kept under wraps. Listen. I know this as well as you, my readers, do. Professional sports is not a game. They involve men, primarily from 25 to 35 years of age, competing in grueling physical wars to earn a livelihood. It is a cutthroat business, where a single injury can mean the loss of years of future earnings, or a single failure to perform can result in the end of the a career. Were Griner to play in the NBA (and she certainly is enthusiastic about it), these men would not treat her differently. She is an opponent, an on-court enemy that stands in the way of victory, financial security, children’s college funds, and the whole she-bang. But even that fails to cover the real crux of the situation.

You see, I played Division I college ball, in pursuit of a boyhood dream to one-day play in the NBA. [Personal Disclaimer: even at my best I was relegated to the bench: at 6’4″ and 190 pounds, I was too slow to play the point, and too small to play shooting guard. In the offseason prior to my junior year, I suffered a knee injury that effectively ended my playing days.] What feminists secretly witness is that when men are on the court playing, the inner alpha male is inevitable unleashed. What do I mean? The world goes blank–you don’t see the stands, you don’t think about your friends and family, scholarships and prizes, or even the consequences of winning and losing. You just want to dominate the men standing across from you. You want to win yes, but more importantly you want to beat them. It’s an animalistic fire, fueled by rage, brotherhood, and an almost primal do-or-die attitude. The rules go out the window. In the heat of the game, you don’t care about integrity or playing fair or respecting the opposition. You want to win, bad. And find yourself willing and eager to do whatever the hell is necessary to beat the other guy into submission and walk away victorious–a defeat isn’t just an L on the record, but in big way a hit to your pride. This is an environment which no women can ever comprehend, let alone function within. It is a fire in which the most mild-mannered men metamorphose into competitive killers, fouling, shoving, hitting, elbowing, bleeding–all to get a single W.

This precisely is the unspoken reason why women’s sports, at whatever level, are banal, uninteresting and tedious. There is simply no life-or-death investment, both emotionally and physically. Brittney Griner, irrespective of her supposedly freakish body and athleticism, would be eaten alive. Does anyone seriously think feminists want Griner to suffer an old-school hard foul, and for the whole bag of lies to be laid bare? Do you doubt that once men realize en masse that the emperor indeed has no clothes on, they will tolerate the oppressive bullshit behind Title IX? Behind Olympic sports banned for failing to be effectively involve both genders? For tennis players of both genders to be paid the same? The lie must be kept under-wraps, and in order to do that the frame must be shifted. The fact that is involves a serious contradiction to everything else feminism has preached in the past is superfluous.

* Even the manginas and strap-on takers, the male counterparts to seventy-year old cat hording spinsters desperately trying to justify their failed lives to themselves,  spread their sans-testicle groins and scream “Let Brittney play!”. So yes, imagine my disbelief.

One of my favorite bloggers, Dannyfrom504, posted the following video of Crazy-Girl ® on his blog:

Oh my gosh, girls like her are so fucking freaky in bed it’s a godsend. “Rough sex” is such a gross understatement it’s almost criminal. I had the exquiste pleasure/pain of dating a batshit crazy girl (nicknamed her Ms. Flower-of-Death) like the one in this video just last year — and I’m talking the whole shebang: Bipolar Type II, anger-management, fear-of-abandonment, Daddy Issues galore, Borderline Personality Disorder, ADD, ADHD, ex-Juvie (non-violent, she did a short stint in high school for shoplifting) and…is there a word limit to these posts? I stayed with her for a little over eight months, but by-god they were eight months of the sweetest hell I’ve ever lived in.

And the sex. Oh, the sex. Sweet Lord Almighty, the FUCKING SEX. I would often go into work on Monday’s with enough ‘love-making’ bruises to put Rambo to shame. Among my most memorable sexual exploits with Ms. Flower-of-Death were: rape role-plays of the most scrumptiously violent sort (ski masks, accent and all); once tied her up for an entire weekend (room reeked of puss, ahem…vaginal fluids, for a month); choked her so hard she actually passed out one time; had sex in her sister’s house (sis off to work) and literally broke her living room table in half.

My biggest problem turned out to be that any sex after her became instantaneously bland and boring. Chris Rock said in one of his major comedy specials that “men can’t go backwards sexually, women can’t go backwards in lifestyle.” And man-o-man is that shit true. Old school missionary doesn’t cut it anymore. I mean, yeah, I’ll still get hard and bust a nut on her tits, but it’s not even close to the same emotional and sexual high as crazy-girl sex. But trying to break up with this chick almost got me killed, no joke. That story’s coming up, stay tuned for my next post…

Personally, I prefer hair-pulling when I ride doggy. Choking is much better reserved for tied-up missionary.