Today I’m feeling lazy, so I’m just going to pass along some thoughts from Mark Minter, a fellow best known, insofar as he is known, for leaving melodramatic manospherian manifestos – look, three “m’s” in a row! — in other people’s comments sections. I’ve written about him before — twice! — and he’s recently returned to his old habit of leaving his droppings in the comments here.
This little masterpiece of purplish prose, however, was left in the comments section of Roosh V’s Return of Kings blog (and brought to my attention by a commenter here), where he gets a much friendlier reception than he gets in these parts. His topic: Returning to the United States after spending time abroad. (I’ve cut out big chunks of his comments, as Minty is a tad long-winded.)
I have been back 3 years and I do not seek to engage America in any way. I stay home, on the internet. I shop in the middle of the night for food. When I must be out in the day, I move quickly, efficiently. I interact little with this society that I am no longer a part of. Some of that is age but a lot of is that I have killed my American self and I feel no affection for it, no loyalty to it, and I shall discard it forever, soon. The only connection is feel to it is you, you band of renegade rebels to whom I feel a kindred spirit.
We few, we happy few, we band of douchebags!
Despite the claims of feminists, America is the Matriarchy, the land owned and dominated by women and their mangina menservants, their guards, their infrastructure that so caters to them, their laws.
Yes, it’s true. Along with its mangina manservants — hi, everybody! — America has a Matriarchal Infrastructure. For example, this power plant, located just outside Dacron, Ohio, is devoted entirely to providing electricity for women’s Hitachi Magic Wands.
Anyway, back to Mark’s riveting ruminations:
You see it when upon landing in America. In other places, immigration is almost a “lip service”, a gang of sorts to get money from you when you arrive and when you leave. The security you must pass, when entering. is almost a joke compared to what you encounter when you arrive in America. And it is far greater when you leave, those airlines and airport security forces have a procedure that is not so much that the idea of the country you are leaving, but rather the dictates of America, and its women.
Clearly, only women want border security. If it were up to men, anyone could just waltz in no questions asked, carrying bombs, heroin, large snakes, strange insects, bootleg t.A.T.u. CDs, what have you.
And here you are not a man, but a functionary, a manservant, a slave to women. You see it when you arrive, you feel it, you know it, that stripping of your masculine dignity that begins the moment you leave the plane and enter an American terminal, that herding, that loss of the you that is you. And you see it as you come out on these clean, lit streets, this great giant boring shopping mall, all designed for women, all policed for women, all at the behest of women and those manginas that have bought in … .
Damn you, America and your good lighting! Fuck you and your infernal lack of litter!
It is more than merely cultural, more than social, it is even biological. This matriarchy has dominated even nature here, controlled every last aspect, even the dirt, even the germs, all of the animals, and certainly, all of the men.
It’s true. ALL OF THE ANIMALS. Even my cats are women. Spoiled, pampered women who expect everything handed to them on a silver platter!
Well, not so much a silver platter as little paper plates. Also, I make them poop in a box. But you get the idea.
If you stay, you will remain in angst, a slave to women.
When I close my eyes the image I see is elsewhere.
Weird. I see the completely unilluminated inside of my eyelids, which is not a terribly interesting view.
And when I die, the fact I got to live elsewhere for a time, will dwarf what I feel about here. It is the basis of my rants about marriage and this American life as a married man being insipid, stupid, and a waste of the life of man. Because it ties you to here, it chains you, it removes your option, your hope, that you might leave, and seals your fate as a slave.
So, I guess … don’t get married then? Problem solved!
I don’t think the women of Matriarchal America are going to miss out greatly from you removing yourself from the marriage market. So, seriously, go right ahead.
NOTE: There is no Dacron, Ohio.
Whenever a regular says goodnight on this site, this is what I imagine.
neuroticbeagle, good idea! 😀
augurochella, you owe me a cup of tea now!
Damn, that gif should be posted here permanently. Perfect.
That’s what’s amazing about that bra, that it’s not stiff like most moulded bras but still supportive (I’m an E cup and it works great for me).
(I’m going to keep ignoring the attention seeker until he says something interesting.)
First, g’night Viscaria!
Second, zombie Argenti said that after Argenti died laughing at that gif. The walked over cat barely even notices!
L (and others discussing Chicago Pizza):
Okay, first off:
From what I understand, most “Chicago-style” pizza places outside our area tend to just make a thicker crust. This is not Chicago-style pizza. CSP is best called “Deep-dish” locally; it entails an extremely thick slice of pizza; generally, one piece is a full meal. If I had to compare it to something… Imagine lasagna made by someone who didn’t understand the concept of layering–so all the dough is at the bottom, then the sauce, then the cheese, then the meats and veggies–but it still comes out as thick as a slice of lasagna should be. That’s pretty close.
Obviously, with the crust that thick, getting that part right is key; a bad deep-dish pizza almost always fails because of the failure to do the crust properly.
Now, L, if you’re moving to Chicago and want to be taken seriously as a foodie…
Have your pizza, then move on. We’ve got much, much more localized fare that’s much worse for you.
First off, the Pizza Puff. This is a folded pastry, which is then filled with pizza ingredients–sauce, seasoned ground beef and maybe a bit of cheese–and then deep-fried. It’s flaky and tasty and generally sinful, but be warned–the contents are HOT. proper way to eat is to nibble the top to allow the steam to escape, then slowly work your way down, letting it cool as you go.
Then, you’ll have a Chicago-style Hot Dog. This one always catches people off-guard. It’s almost healthy, for one thing. Proper ingredients for a full dog:
Yellow mustard, onion, pickle relish, tomato, a dill pickle wedge, sport peppers and celery salt. Some places will serve it with lettuce as well, but I suggest getting it without–it adds nothing to the traditional dog. Note the lack of ketchup. Do not ask for ketchup on your hot dog. Trust me on this one. It’s acceptable for the fries only.
Now, the Maxwell Street Polish. The Maxwell Street Market is long gone–it was an open-air flea market, essentially, and was the best place to go to find your hubcaps after they went missing off your car; you could usually get a good deal on them, too. 🙂 However, the polish sausage they developed there remains. The sausage is grilled, not just boiled. Then it is covered with fried onions and mustard; sport peppers are optional, but again, recommended. On a properly done MSP, you will not see the sausage because of the mound of onions, save a little bit peeking out the ends.
Finally, you’ll need to find a good Italian Beef joint. This is shredded beef that’s been soaking in a broth full of spices and garlic, usually for hours. It’s placed on a roll (it resembles mostly a french-bread roll, cut to length), which is then dipped in the aforementioned broth, soaking the bread in the juice; the bread’s hard crust keeps it from falling apart completely (you can order it ‘dry’–ie, no dipping–but I strongly urge you to get it dipped the first time you try it, for the full experience; your mouth will thank you). Provolone cheese, and your choice of sweet bell peppers (sauteed) or giardiniera (a blend of spicy peppers, carrots and cauliflower soaked in oil–don’t worry if you don’t like cauliflower; you’ll never taste it). If the place you’re in is trying to give you something other than provolone, decline; just go with peppers or not as you like. If they want to give you a cheese ‘sauce’ (like on nachos), then flip them the bird and walk out–they know nothing about how to do proper Italian Beef. For more artery-clogging fun, you can get a “Combo”–Italian beef laid over an Italian sausage.
You will need to develop passionate opinions about these things, even if it’s that you actually don’t care for them. It’s acceptable to have a contrarian opinion, but we regard people who are ‘neutral’ on the issue of foodstuffs with all the suspicion of Zapp Brannigan:
After all that, it’s all about the ethnic food. Chicago is still heavily segregated, but one of the small upsides of that is that cultures can be surprisingly well-preserved–including recipes from the ‘old country’, whichever country that happens to be. If at least half the shop signs you can see are in a foreign language, look around for a hole-in-the-wall restaurant and take a chance.
You will also be expected to develop an opinion on Cubs vs. White Sox. If you’re bored by sports, say that you prefer the Sox as the team for serious fans of the game. Everyone will nod, and you can move the conversation somewhere else. If you say you like the Cubs, then either the Sox fans will pick an argument, or the Cubs fans will go on and on about the subject for the next two hours.
augochlorella, that may be the greatest gif in the history of gifs.
Ugh; apparently, we had the Return of PEMRA at some point tonight. I submit a bit o’ brain bleach for anyone who actually read him:
@kittehserf, also cougars are cats so it’s all good 🙂
@Argenti, of course Ophelia’s fine, you did say I could call you Argenti, yes? 🙂
@augochlorella, I loved that video 🙂
And as such, although I’m not a regular, I’m gonna make like a cat and er..don’t quite know where I was going with that…something about going to bed…scratch?….litter?…poo? Well, I’m tired, you get the gist…nighty, night x
Nope, unfortunately. He’s not open-minded about anyone LGBT*, so religious interpretation is unlikely to sway him; besides, he thinks that the Islam espoused by many Iranians is heretical.
I just took a long hot shower and dressed myself in some comfy clothes. So now I feel much more relaxed, even though my anxiety isn’t entirely gone. Thank you so much all for your help, everyone.
Now I’m off to bed – good night!
Niters ophelia!
For what it’s worth, I think you’re a regular now. So there. 🙂
Freemage, got any recommendations for Chicago food for people who can’t eat hot stuff, at all, including basic white pepper? I’ll be visiting again next year (fingers crossed) for maybe a week. I love hot dog type stuff and hamburgers but I can’t do any hot food – even the most basic bratwurst is uncomfortably hot.
Aaliyah, Please feel free to email me at any point if you feel like you need a personal convo (my ‘nym+ gmail), or if you want to be hooked up with my friends in the Bay area. I am sure pecunium would also do the same. And we may know other people who can also be resources, so don’t be shy about asking for help.
Mostly <3 and hugs.
Oops, and good night. I have a certain talent for coming in when things are done. 😀
(But offer still stands.)
Just getting into bed and over analysing what I’ve posted, so before I go to sleep,
@Aaliyah, take good care.
@Kitteserf, thank you so much, you’re lovely, give my love to Louis.
And finally,
I’m so sorry to any religious minded individuals, earlier in the thread PEMRA annoyed me and I told him to go away, and I realise what I said before that was pretty disrespectful to any people of faith. I really try not to be like the Dawkins brigade, so if I offended anyone, I’m really sorry 🙁
Anyway, here’s me making like a cat and…no…still doesn’t work…meowing?
“… you did say I could call you Argenti, yes?” Yep 🙂
G’night to everyone that just left! (Minty put you to sleep? XD )
Making like a cat and walking off like no one was talking to you?
argenti: I meant he’s not the first to accuse me of not having adequate reading comprehension. It’s not quite as common a flailing attack as, “that’s ad hom”, but it’s up there.
It’s one of the more common,”rebuttals” to the trolls who sort of engage. Mostly they leave me alone after a few turns ’round the floor. Apparently they don’t like dancing with me.
If we are still discussing pizza- my favorite is white with broccoli and shrimp.
As for dumb things animals do: my brilliant beagle (sarcasm) wound up trapped halfway in my closet while I was at work. Fortunately for her, my mom came and rescued her.
@Argenti, sorry, did I walk away while you were talking 🙁
Neuroticbeagle,
Mine would have done such in his younger years. He had a thing for bra-straps. He’d bust his way into my closet (and laundry basket) just to chomp those suckers off.
ophelia: I wasn’t offended. That you don’t believe in god(s) neither picks my pocket, nor injures my person. For you to pretend you did, or restrain your speech, out of some fear that my sensibilities would be hurt wouldn’t be fair to you.
So, for me, no worries.
Speaking of pizza, I’ve had to go gluten-free and I still risk the raging diarrhea for a decent slice every now and then. I’ve yet to meet a gluten-free pie that is not knife and fork only and that isn’t a sloppy-goo-mess as far as the crust is concerned. Anyone have other experiences?
As for me, I’m more of a St. Louis thin-crust type. (I don’t know what makes this different from NY thin crust, I think the St. Louis is closer to a flat-bread crust, if that makes any sense)
@eli
I have no idea what the hell mine was doing. She has separation anxiety and normally tries to chew through the bedroom door (I keep her in there when I am going to be away for long periods of time so she doesn’t destroy the rest of the apartment). Door number 3 seems to be holding up pretty well..so far.
Oh well, best of luck, neuroticbeagle,
mine was really never neurotic, I was lucky. And mine is practically dead at almost 14, so, whatever.