At some point, the Texas divorce courts decided that four-year old Fredricka, seen here, would be much better off living with her unstable skank-ho single mom, than with a normal, healthy family. It will surprise none of my readers to learn that little Fredricka was subsequently murdered.
Needless to say, there is no national outrage. There is no extended media coverage of any kind. This happened in Houston, but outlets in Dallas and San Antonio are not running the story.
There will be no candlelight vigils, nor calls for a “national conversation” on single-motherhood.
Skank-ho mommy is in the jailhouse, due to receive a far lighter sentence than she deserves, and the little girl’s father has been officially erased by the gaystream media.
From KTRK-Houston (link)
The paternal family of Fredricka Allen spoke out to Eyewitness News. The little girl’s grandmother, Willia Allen, said her son first called her Sunday. He was worried about his daughter’s safety.
“Paternal family”? “her son”? How about a statement from the child’s father, or at least some acknowledgement? The best these morons can do is a one-line snippet by the victim’s grandmother (another wimminz, naturally).
This is, of course, a pattern that y’r boy Boxer has noted many times. Like little Victoria in Albuquerque (link), Fredricka had no chance at a decent or stable life, once her skank-ho mommy opened up the doors of the divorce courts.
This is also one more reason that no man should ever marry or have children with an American ho’, without doing some serious soul-searching. The phenomenon is less common than it could be, but it’s still a frighteningly real worst-case scenario that any intelligent man ought to consider carefully.
Special thanks to Red Pill Latecomer, of the award-winning Dalrock Research Team, for finding this article and sharing it. Show him some love here (link).
Feminists are, at their core, hollow beings. Female feminists are obsessed with envy of masculinity. Male feminists are obsessed with rebellion against the primal father. In both cases, the subject’s libidinal feelings are recursive. Rather than a healthy desire to commune with the other, the subject of the neurotic obsession is the self.
It’s all about meeeeeeeeee….
And so we meet “Francesca,” the author of Saint Joseph, Terror of The Cult of Masculinity (link), an article which was published a week ago, at my favorite feminist magazine: Patheos.
Everything that keeps the red pill poppers and alt-right windbags up at night was Saint Joseph’s life. He raised a child that was not his. His marriage was celibate, and he was chaste…
If we are to take the literal as historical, and accept that the text of the New Testament reflects stories of actual events, then we must concede in the first instance that Francesca is technically correct. Joseph was a man who raised up a son who was actually fathered by God himself.
In making this association, what “Francesca” attempts is an analogy. Every skank-ho single mom, she implicitly argues, partakes in the greatness and heroism which is the life of Mary, as recorded. This is silly and actually quite disrespectful to the literary (cum historical) character.
In the second instance, if we are to believe “Francesca”‘s claim that Joseph’s “marriage was celibate, and he was chaste…” then we are stuck with an obvious contradiction. In Mark 6:3, we read:
Is not this the carpenter, the son of Mary, the brother of James, and Joses, and of Juda, and Simon? and are not his sisters here with us? And they were offended at him.
Taking “Francesca” seriously opens up a number of interesting possibilities.
- Perhaps James, Joses, Juda, Simon and various unnamed sisters are also the physical children of God and Mary. If that were the case, then their own magic tricks and miracles would get equal billing in the text. We never read about Simon raising the dead, nor about Juda turning water into wine, nor about the sisters walking on the surface of various lakes and rivers. So this seems impossible.
- Perhaps these other people are half-brothers of Jesus through God, with different mothers. Aside from points already raised, we must then wonder where the heroic stories of the virgin births through Jane, Sarah, Trixie, Sally and Bertha might be recorded. Again, this seems impossible.
- Perhaps “Francesca” has it right, that St. Joseph was celibate throughout his marriage, and he was the chaste husband of the single mom Mary, who banged Joe, Bill, Bob, etc. and had all these children through one or more different mortal fathers. It’s funny how the text makes absolutely no mention of such things, especially when pointing out such carnal shortcomings is a major theme of the entire corpus.
In fact, the only reasonable way to understand this idiotic article is to acknowledge that feminists are generally ignorant of the things they are wont to lecture on. “Francesca” has never read the New Testament, doesn’t know what the life of the Jesus character entails, and has no idea as to the deeper meanings of his story. Moreover: The only sensible way to interpret this nonsense is through Freud’s 1914 work On Narcissism, where we read that such people spend their lives warping great metanarratives in service of their own neurotic desires, to garner attention for themselves.
People like “Francesca” can not be helped, because any attempt to discuss their own motivations for these horrific misinterpretations is met with ego-defensive rage and more dishonest spinning. All we can really do is to point out their lunacy, scoff at them, and hold them up as examples to younger people as how not to turn out.
A screenshot of “Francesca”‘s original article reproduced here, under Fair Use.
…of wimminz’ nonsense.
I guess Gemma here never took any selfies. Her friends had to post this lovely photo, of her getting publicly fingered, when she went missing. (Shocking that such a woman would have went missing anyway, isn’t it? She looks like a very nice person who minds her business.)
Note: Gemma and Jemma are not the same people.
Over on BDMG blog (visit that site), we read about my nigga Jeremy Meeks, a man who was so goodlookin’ that women swooned at his mugshot photo.
Apparently, Meeks is now out of jail, living in a mansion, driving a fancy car, and paying for all of it with modeling/talent gigs (nypost dot com). Kudos to him for beating the odds. Unlike the vast majority of idiots that volunteer for neck tattoos, he isn’t working a crap job for minimum wage, after all.
Meeks is also married, to a woman named Melissa. According to his twitter account, he recently celebrated his 8-year anniversary. Kudos to him in that regard, too. Here’s an archive photo of the happy couple.
The author at BDMG explains that Meeks’ windfall is largely due to wimminz’ idealization of the thug archetype.
Most women dream of capturing such a specimen, and through the power of their uniquely powerful and empowered vaginae, they titillate themselves with the notion that they might tame and domesticate such a badboy. I can’t really argue with the appeal of this. It’s the same delusion that powerfully powers and empowers the readers of crapola like Fifty Shades of Grey, and Twilight. The reduction of a previously untamable man, to one’s own personal dog, is the female version of the male fantasy of building a rocketship in one’s back yard, and flying it to the moon. Sure, it might happen, but it’s not very likely.
BDMG continues, and here’s where he goes wildly wrong…
I have no idea what originally attracted Melissa to Jeremy. This might have been a one-in-a-million true love story, where a nice girl meets a good-looking but troubled young man, and through the empowering power of her magic vagina, straightens him out. I don’t find that very likely, given that he was still mired in legal problems, resulting from being convicted of various violent crimes, just a couple of years ago.
I find it infinitely more likely that Melissa was a club skank, who started banging a good-looking but troubled young man, and who decided to keep him around not because she loved him, but because he was a weak and degenerate fellow, and was thus easily controllable. Melissa is more likely the type of woman who is attracted to weak men, who she can control and manipulate.
Anyone who runs hoez knows exactly the type of woman I’m talking about.
Melissa “stayed with” Jeremy, during his imprisonment, but I doubt she was a faithful, doting wife, who spent all her time writing letters to the parole board, or preparing to make the bus trip for visitation. She probably liked the fact that he was gone to the clink. It added drama to her life, gave her something to complain about to her bitch friends, and allowed her to go out carousing whenever she wanted, without having to justify her behavior to a spouse.
The fact that Jeremy is blowing all his money on rental payments for mansions and fancy cars is another bit of circumstantial evidence that bolsters my suspicions about the true nature of his relationship. He won’t be a sexy young thug for ever. If he were wiser, or if he had the counsel of a father or grandfather, he’d be living in a modest home, driving a Toyota, and investing in a trade school education. Instead, he’s temporarily making some moderately big money, and spending every dime of it on the whims of some woman, who feels that she absolutely must have a fine house and a Maserati.
“And by the way, don’t expect him to get cleaned out in divorce court, because there is no way that his wife is going to leave him. Women only do that when they want to get the money away from the unsexy guy; conversely, this woman stayed with him in poverty because he was the sexiest man alive.”
Last I checked, the “sexiest man alive” was Brad Pitt.
Jeremy, if you read this, you need to divorce that bitch, pronto, and start looking out for yourself.
Over on Dalrock, there is a treasure-trove of religious exegesis. The author is a protestant, but he’s very tolerant. As a result, a large community of Protestants, Catholics and Jews can be found in the comment section, where they constantly complain about their looney pro-feminist congregations.
I don’t believe in any God, or gods, and as a result it often seems like I’m out of place when I occasionally show up. The reality is that conservative religious people are simultaneously some of the most annoying and persistent people pushing feminism, poz and degeneracy, all under the cloak of religious tolerance. I hate your feminist preachers at least as much as you. Fortunately I am not required by a wife or tradition to attend if I don’t want to.
Recently, in one of the gripe-fests, it was suggested that one or more of the dudes start his own church. This would be a worthwhile development for a number of reasons. I countered by suggesting that if anyone were already on the board of an established church, he could very easily rig a couple of elections to stack the body with redpill brothers. Once a plurality was reached, the board could fire the feminist preacher, and replace him with someone decent.
Some of these pozzed out churches have big money at their disposal. Taking control of one would open up all sorts of new doors.
If you, dear reader, aren’t on the board of your church, and if your preacher is a radical feminist nutjob who is destabilizing your family, I have some ideas as to how you can fight the power. Just in time for father’s day, when preachers around the country are typically insulting every father in their congregation.
Naturally, I would never advise anyone to actually do any of these things. In some areas, there are laws. There’s also the social fallout if you’re caught sabotaging a church function. This is just brainstorming, for my own amusement. What follows is strictly for entertainment purposes.
Dead animals are a useful tool in any guerrilla’s arsenal. They’re ubiquitous, on the side of every road, and free for the taking. Even better for our purposes are whole fish, bought from the butcher’s section of the supermarket. Hiding such things in a building will surely stink the place up. Some medium sized flounder, stuffed into a ventilation shaft, should do the trick. Toss some more onto a high shelf in a utility closet. Make sure to lock up before leaving.
Placing some dead animals in theatrical positions will spook people who find them. Consider a hideous looking skinned sheep/goat head (available in most butcher shops) with the eyeballs bulging out and the tongue lolling. Wouldn’t that look great on the altar? Bonus points if the priest has a teenage kid who will be the natural suspect.
Note: to get into and out of a place undiscovered, freeze your stink-bomb overnight.
Sometimes an individual priest is so damaging to the lives of his flock, that directly illustrating his character defects is the only thing that will truly bring justice to those he’s ruined. Take, for example, our brother Iowa Slim (read his story), who has had his divorce and loss of custody facilitated, directly, by the couple who runs his fake-christian church.
This preacher, and/or his wife, obviously needs a good screwing. In such cases, classified ads in Craigslist can be a big help. Soliciting sex partners is always good. For example:
MWM 35 seeks black woman 18+ for BSDM domination role-play. Cum to my plantation! I’ll be master, you be my slave girl. Prefer you have very large buttocks. My wife doesn’t know, so must be discreet. Be comfortable with scat and water sports. Call Joe at 213-555-1212
Note, do not use your pastor’s real name on the ad, but do list his personal mobile telephone number. He should be getting a lot of weird calls directly after the ad is submitted. He’ll assume it’ll be a wrong number, but it’ll still amuse you to know about it.
You could then print out some hard copies of the ad itself, and mail them around to various friends, neighbors and business associates of Pastor Feminist. If you’re feeling creative, enclose an anonymous letter, id’ing the phone number, denouncing the target, and asking how the addressee could associate with this degenerate. Encourage the receiver to pray for Pastor Feminist, as he’s clearly very troubled. Use random return addresses on the envelopes, or use one belonging to a troublemaker in the congregation.
A variation on this theme is to pick up some of the weird gay/lesbian print publications that exist in every town. You find these in hipster coffee shops and they’re always given out for free. Aside from the personals, these bizarro pieces of literature always feature “coming out” sections. Use your imagination and file a story that resembles your pastor, but does not include his name. If it’s printed, you can scan this, put it on the internet, and anonymously make the association. I bet the very conservative old people at church didn’t know his marriage was just for show, and that he was actually into twinks and trannies.
The variations on this same theme are infinite, and you’re only limited by your own creativity. Fake (but convincing) tinder/pof/okc/grindr profiles, tacked up bulletin board ads on little 3×5 flash cards, and other such stuff are your media.
No matter what sort of building your Sunday morning manbasher parade is held in, it almost certainly has a lock on the exterior doors. Liquid Solder and Super Glue are excellent additions to such orifices.
Coaxial cable is ruined, and the signal disrupted, by discreetly pushing a sewing needle through the center of the cable at any point. Be inconspicuous, so that it takes a good long time to find the sabotage. If you do this well enough, and the building will need to be rewired entirely.
Bending a paperclip into a U-shape, and jamming each end (carefully) into an outlet is sure to set off sparks. It won’t start a fire or cause any permanent damage, but it will almost certainly blow the breaker, cutting power to the entire room. It might also shock you. Wear rubber gloves to pull this off, and see if you can’t black the place out during the sermon.
If your church has industrial clothes dryers, automatic dishwashers or some similar piece of equipment, then the introduction of a jar of all-natural peanut butter, before turning it on for a cycle, is an excellent way to ruin it.
Chewed bubble gum makes a fine addition to any carpet.
One can get a cheap safety hasp and padlock for about ten bucks. It takes about ten minutes to install one of these with a screwdriver. Wouldn’t it be great to secure some rooms… from the inside? You can’t be too careful, these days. Just make sure you’ve got a window to climb out of, and go to work.
Hiding a gram of cocaine in someone’s car would be a terrible thing to do. Of course, you’d want to tip off the local cops if you decided to go this route. If you have the connections to do this, you can add baking powder to a gram of decent quality cocaine, and theoretically make it ten grams of crap, which will still come up as cocaine when tested. Only a serious drug dealer would have that much on him… Right?
Falsely creating some financial documents, suggesting that your target came into a huge amount of money, and mailing these to the IRS… that would be terrible too.
If you have your preacher’s info, you could always pose as him over the phone. Call to make an appointment to “turn yourself in” to the IRS or FBI. When you call either of these agencies, be vague. If they ask what you’ve done, tell them that you need to get documents together, and you’ll make a full confession once you come down to the station. Assure the investigator that you’ll come with your checkbook and be prepared to make a settlement on the spot, including all fees and penalties.
Of course, when no one ever shows up for the appointment, it’s doubtful that the conversation will just be forgotten…
Obviously I would never do anything like this. It’s immoral. Some of it is illegal, also. Of course, unlike Iowa Slim, I’ve never had a pastor who has volunteered to fund and testify in a divorce action, so that I can’t see my own kids. If that happened to me, I don’t know what I’d do. If that happened to you, my advice is to forget it. But if you decide to get some payback, I’d never blame you…
Happy Father’s Day!