Love Crimes and Hate Crimes

Milo Yiannopoulos’ DANGEROUS website, for reasons, so they reassure me, that are no reflection on my writing, have suspended my column there, temporarily, or so they hope.

Here is last week’s column. This topic I thought too topical to let rest, and so I publish it here. It is saltier (less G-rated) than my normal writing here, so proceed at your own risk.  

Wright on What’s Wrong

Love Crimes, Hate Crimes

Is hate stronger than love?

The coming year might tell us. We face a stark choice. A tremendous and lasting victory is within reach, but a stumble into the abyss is one misstep away.

New Years’ Day is a time for making firm resolutions few, if any, keep. But this week celebrates the Feast of Epiphany, a time of insight, of revelation. It is also time, as all times are, for repentance and forgiveness. Now is the apt time to ask what New Years’ Day resolutions would be wise for our society to make. Let us inspect the revelations from the year gone by. Let us ask what to repent, and whom to forgive.

The biggest revelation from this last year were the sexual scandals now emblazoned on every newspaper headline, and blaring from every radio. Our elite political masters, our gurus and superstars, and our cultural leaders in Hollywood, Washington and New York are currently filling a list of adulterers and rapists, harlots and pederasts now longer than your arm.

What must we repent? For those too young to remember, this nation used to be chaste and sane when it came to sexual matters. The claim that one could use and abuse other people for selfish gain was not granted an exception merely because the motive was sexual.

In a sane society, sexual reproduction is meant for sexual reproduction. It is fertile. The act is not sacrificed in order to glean the pleasure of the act while escaping from the meaning of the act.

The sane society knew that some things were sacred, and that things done privately in the honeymoon bower were not meant to be done in a public street, in a gutter, or thrown up on a cinema screen.

The nature of sacred things is that they are private: But thou, when thou makest passionate love to a woman like a pair of mad weasels, enter into thy closet, and when thou hast shut thy door, get thou thy poon on, but makest not so much noise, lest they neighbors bangest against thy wall. And that which thy makest in private, shall be fertile, and bear, and shall be given birth and seen openly. If thou has poopy babies, cute as buttons, all over thine house, the neighbors willt know that thou was getting it on.

It will shock the youngsters to learn their elders knew all about sex. Your grandmother knew where babies came from, and she knew what she and grandpa had to do to make the little girl that grew up to be your Mommy. And if your grandma, as mine did, grew up on a farm, she saw plenty of fertility each spring, what with the birds and bees and cows and ewes all rutting up a storm, stallions rearing, bulls kicking down stalls, and even porcupines in the woods very carefully arranging their hystricine pricks prior to mating. (I mean their spiny coats. Get your mind out of the gutter.)

What she did not do, is shout out loud and proud about it, because pride, in those days, meant modesty, not boasting. We did not have a self-esteem movement. Instead, we had self-esteem.

The mating dance was wild fun but wildly dangerous, courtship was as fair as song, but risky as a nitroglycerine moonrocket liable to explode on the launchpad. The precautions prudence dictated were called chastity.

You see, all prior generations knew from sad experience what driving without a safety belt was like, or skydiving without a parachute. Everyone knew, or knew of, those who blew up on launch.

But to moderns, safety belts are fetters, parachutes are burdens. Moderns flung prudence aside. The result was the roaring, rank, foetid stupidity known as the Sexual Revolution.

During this revolution, boys and girls were taught that, since we are all equal in the eyes of the law, therefore any difference between one and the other was a sign of oppression. Masculinity was toxic and femininity was morbid. Boys should not grow to be men,  and never act like gentlemen, and women should be not just unladylike, but play the whore with as many ruthless sexual predators as are willing to embrace her with a loud ejaculation. (I mean crying out in high emotion, of course. Elevate your thinking.) Manhood ceased to mean any attempt to be erect in morals; it meant merely to be erect. (Okay, that time, I meant what you thought.)

The result you can see around you: A no-holds-barred sexual free-for-all erupted.

Suddenly, all guardrails were removed. A woman, whether out of fear of loss or ambition for gain, could play the harlot for her boss; she could commit adultery with a married man; she could perform unnatural sexual acts; or even kneel on the floor of the Oval Office and perform fellatio on the commander-in-chief, which, come to think of it, combines harlotry, adultery, and onanism.

Then she could have her good name slandered by a corrupt and compliant media.

A sexual free-for-all benefits no nymph. It heaps tremendous benefits on the satyr. The most fit, handsome, rich and ruthless top ten percent of the males take multiple mistresses or adopt a serial harem of one wife after another, divorcing each old one when a younger, trophy model comes along.

The free-for-all benefits others less. The nine-tenths of males more modestly blessed suddenly find that they have a smaller pool of candidates. The pool never stopped being drained, since no attractive woman, married or not (since adultery is permitted, and divorce encouraged) is out of bounds. Nor has he security in marriage: the wife initiates the nine divorces out of ten these days, and keeps half his income. If he misses support payments, he gets jail time.

Basically, our society rewards living in sin. The unwed cad gets the nuptial pleasure of bedding his girl, but gets to keep his stuff when she moves on.

Nothing results but insecurity and hatred between the sexes: precisely the thing an environment fit for childrearing cannot have.

Therefore fertility rates drop. The Western World has failed to reproduce in replacement numbers. The option of inviting in Muslim savages to kill our homosexuals and honor-kill unveiled daughters is one our brethren in Europe are now examining. How is that working out for them?

The main thing needed to maintain such misery, mutual hatred, and mutual exploitation is, obviously, aborticide. A heap of wee little tiny baby skulls piled up behind the Planned Parenthood Peace and Happiness Health Center (or whatever Orwellian name we give murder mills these days) our sick society deems a small price to pay in order to give nymphs and satyrs license to work their will on each other.

Men seek to protect, not to be protected by, their mates. When freed of that duty, they become satyrs. They do not get pregnant. They can walk away from inconvenient matings. Meanwhile the nymph, who naturally seek protection and strength from her man, instead gets the shaft. (Not that shaft, the other kind.) Robbed of any other recourse, the nymphs flee quivering and wailing to the courts of law, as the only masculine protector in modern life is Uncle Sam.

Even the Victorians let their young gentlemen talk and flirt (in a genteel fashion) with the maidens. Victorians merely had chaperones standing by just in case the youth was tempted to play Al Franken.

Now? Merely slapping the cad is out of the question. Our modern feminists have less agency than Victorian maidens.

With Uncle Sam as the sole chaperone, caddishness becomes criminal. Policemen, rather than maiden aunts, enforce the rules of proper behavior.

The retaliation of the nymphs against the satyrs is long overdue. Men like Clinton and Weinstein raped or blackmailed or browbeat frails into adulterous casting couches or onto Oval Office carpets.

Ere now, out of party loyalty, the nymphs kept silent, or blamed the Conservatives and Christians for toxic masculinity, without mentioning that the only toxicity issued from the Christ-hating Leftists like Clinton and Weinstein. That silence is broken.

I, for one, am glad the nymphs are speaking up against their satyrs. I do not blame the women for giving into the pressure that our sick, unchristian society allows powerful men to bring to bear on young, unchaste and empty-headed maidens.

I, for one, blame our churches for their silence, and our schools for their treasonous malfeasance, and all Leftwing activists for the last six decades for their blithering idiocy and naked evil. I blame a corrupt Left-leaning popular entertainment media complex for glamorizing figures like James Bond and Captain Kirk, telling the youth that manliness consisted of caddishness, or, worse, telling young ladies that liberation meant being a Playboy bunny. The Left are the ones who inveigled parachutes out of the gentle hands of our girls before shoving them out of the airplane hatch.

Happy am I to see the phallocrats fall. It means the witches of feminism are losing power as well.

Unfortunately, some witches are joining in the witch hunt. Herein lies the danger.

One particularly bitter bit of legal nonsense afflicting the moderns is an unequality of punishment based on the victim’s political identity. So if I push down a steep, cold London street a small, crippled Caucasian boy named Tiny Tim Cratchit, I get a milder punishment than if I slap the handsome and fabulous Milo Yiannopoulos, even though he is equally English, hence as worth slapping. This insanity is known as ‘hate crime’ laws.

Hate crime laws are not laws by definition. A law is a standard to which every one is subject without fear or favoritism. A hate crime law is favoritism, since it establishes a special aristocratic class, where the wrongdoer is punished not based on what he does, but on who he offends.

In the world of witches, women are free to accuse whom they please, with evidence or without, and all standards bend like a lesbian rule (no pun intended). Females are always victims, hence always right. The result is that a man who does no more than pat an attractive kneecap is railroaded into jail. In the world of witches, the witchhunt never ends.

There is another option: a return to order and civility; a return to feminine women and masculine men. We can repent of the Sexual Revolution.

But we cannot, as a society, repent of this sexual madness until and unless the women as a whole forgive men as a whole for the wrongs done women. Feminism is not the answer. Forgiveness is the answer.

Repentance and forgiveness go hand and hand. It is impossible to repent of wrongdoings while condemning your wrongdoer. If you condemn, he has power over you. If you forgive, you have power over him.

The hate-crime approach augments rather than cures the wrongs. Hate-crime laws create an ongoing injustice between the privileged victim class and an oppress scapegoat class. It creates hate between them.

The opposite approach is love. Love bids us impose on ourselves what is best for all. Love is not indulgently spoiling those we love. Love is hard and bright as diamond. Love spares not the rod.

Love bids us return to the sound sexual mores, customs and strict laws as governed our forebears; to welcome fierce Cupid and all-destroying Venus back into our society, but bound by the gentle reins of Hymen, the marriage goddess, and Vesta, who guards hearth and home.

Despite what you’ve been told, equality between the sexes is as meaningless a concept as equality between harmony and melody. The very differences between the nut and screw is the sole thing allowing them to fit together. (And this time, yes, I mean screw in both senses of the word.)

In a hale society, male members (pun intended) like Bill Clinton and Harvey Weinstein and Anthony Weiner would be on the reject pile of female scorn, not playing Don Juan among the upper elite.

The New Year’s Resolution our scandal-riddled and sexually insane society must make for 2018 is the Sexual Counter-revolution. We must return romance, love, chastity, courtship and Christ to our sex-lives, and eliminate men like Weiner.

Girls, unite! You have nothing to lose but your Weiners!

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