The answer is obvious. He would sit there in an embarrassed silence, until eventually coming around to the idea that actually there’s nothing he’d enjoy more than to fellate another man to the strains of ‘YMCA’.
Student unions at universities are currently spearheading the battle against free speech through the creation of ‘safe spaces’ where debate is outlawed if the topics are potentially triggering. At Oxford, a debate on abortion was cancelled because a man with incorrect views was scheduled to appear. Debates are all very well in principle, but there’s no need to represent all sides of an argument. One protestor, Niamh McIntyre, said, ‘The idea that in a free society absolutely everything should be open to debate has a detrimental effect on marginalised groups.’ A university is hardly the appropriate place for exploring alternative ideas.
This is why higher education institutions must strive to decolonise their curricula in order to amplify new diverse voices and dismantle the toxic male whiteness of history. The likes of Dostoyevsky, Newton and Schopenhauer should be dispatched to oblivion. It is now clear that they contributed very little to our culture in the first place.
The same goes for the Ancient Greeks; a bunch of misogynistic dead white males who only ever valued free speech as a means to denigrate women. ‘By speech,’ wrote the orator Isocrates, ‘we educate the ignorant and inform the wise.’ I can’t be the only person to have noticed that the phrase ‘inform the wise’ is an anagram of ‘feminist whore’.
Fuck you, Isocrates. Your time is over.
The Androcaust
The proportion of men must be reduced to and maintained at approximately 10% of the human race.
Sally Miller Gearhart
In 1610, a white male ‘poet’ whose name isn’t worth mentioning wrote a play called Cymbeline. In the second act, one of his many two-dimensional characters asks the question: ‘Is there no way for men to be, but women must be half-workers?’
In John Milton’s Paradise Lost, Adam laments the creation of his wife Eve in a similar fashion. ‘O why did God,’ he asks, ‘not fill the world at once with men’ and ‘find some other way to generate mankind?’
This is the fantasy that lurks in the stygian hearts of all males: a utopian vision of a future in which all women are eliminated, concupiscent urges are fulfilled by obedient sex robots, and reproduction can be achieved without the need of female involvement.
For most men, sex with a woman is simply an alternative form of masturbation. To put it bluntly, women are considered no more than wank-socks for their seed. So it is inevitable that men should secretly harbour a desire to procreate on their own, much like amoebas. It’s an appropriate analogy, given that an amoeba and a human male share a similar degree of intellectual nous. As the character of Val says in Marilyn French’s novel The Women’s Room, ‘all men are rapists, and that’s all they are’.
I do not hate men. I pity them. They are lesser creatures, anencephalous dicks with dicks who have been taught from birth that they are the commanders of the universe. It’s a kind of culturally enforced mass delusion. If you train a dog to lick a plate, that doesn’t make it a washing machine.
They say that you should fight fire with fire. This is typical male logic, because actually if you set fire to a burning house it achieves very little. If you take this advice as metaphorical, however, there is something to be said for attack being the best means of defence. And if I am right about the ubiquitous male fantasy to rid the world of women, it stands to reason that we should get there first.
To avoid the possibility of any ambiguity, I’ll just come out and say it. This is an idea that came to me all of a sudden while I was contemplating my state of permanent subjugation, last summer on a brief skiing trip to Val d’Isère.
It is simply this. The time of men is over. The next step is their wholesale elimination.
So how do we go about it? For a while there on Twitter, #KillAllMen was trending worldwide, until the despots who run the company decided that this was ‘inflammatory’ and started banning accounts who dared to use it.
I am not a fan of murder. In many cases it is considered illegal, and personally speaking, on balance, I think it is generally a bad thing. It’s right up there with mansplaining and the government’s tax on tampons.
So when I suggest that we should ‘kill all men’, I am not talking about murder as such. I am talking about modifying our society so that, over a period of time, the very existence of males will be consigned to the history books.
Allow me to explain. If gender is culturally determined (which it is) then there is no sound reason for anyone to identify as male at all. It is only because we live under such a tyrannous oppressive patriarchy that roughly half of the population accept the ‘male’ label with which they were assigned at birth. Once our society embraces the eternal feminine, there will be no need for its vile opposite. Yin will have swallowed yang. The rattlesnake will have severed its deadly tail. The whetted spoon of femininity will have cracked the hairy shell of truth.
There are perks to being male, granted. Men are paid much more than women for the same work, they rarely have to queue for toilets and they are statistically less likely to fall pregnant.
But we shouldn’t overestimate these differences, as to do so would be to fall into the trap of biological essentialism. We’ve all heard the myths: men are more aggressive, men enjoy football and beer, men have penises, etcetera. But these are simply roles that certain members of the human race are encouraged to play.
Some say, for instance, that only men are able to urinate while standing up. To prove them wrong, I only ever urinate standing up, and it’s extremely liberating. I would urge all women to do the same so that we can finally break down these deleterious stereotypes. (Although you should have some kitchen roll to hand as it can get rather messy.)
The Amazons lived plentiful lives without men. They were a race of warriors who were so badass that they removed one of their breasts in order to better facilitate the use of a bow and arrow. Would a male soldier sacrifice a testicle for their cause? Unlikely.
This explains why the word ‘Amazon’ comes from the Classical Greek a- (ἀ-) and mazos (μαζός), which is best translated as ‘without breast’. The word was famously appropriated by the online bookseller of the same name. Amazon’s founder, Jeff Bezos, claims that he made the choice because it sounded ‘exotic and different’, whereas I suspect that he was attracted to the word’s etymology. How perfect that the name of a corporate trillion-dollar tech giant run by a predominantly male board of directors literally means ‘No Breasts’.
If you don’t believe that an all-female world is practicable, you should read Herland by Charlotte Perkins Gilman. First published in 1915, this farsighted novel depicts an idealised society in which all the trappings of toxic masculinity – war, aggression, competitive belching – are but distant memories. There is not a scrotum in sight.
Gilman is best known for her short story ‘The Yellow Wallpaper’ (1892), but Herland takes her out of the traditionally feminine realm of interior design and into the male-dominated genre of utopian science-fiction. To me, Herland is more than just a novel. It’s a guidebook. It’s a prophecy of a better world.
Let’s make it happen.
Clockwork Fascists
We are all HIV-positive.
Diamanda Galás
When it comes to promoting equality, Hollywood plays a vital role. We all take our cues from popular culture; our behaviour is almost entirely dictated by the films and television shows we enjoy. This is known as ‘media effects theory’, and even though six decades of research have failed to produce any evidence for it, my lived experience confirms that it is true.
There have always been movies that combat fascism and champion wokeness. Frodo and Sam in the Lord of the Rings series did wonders for LBGT awareness by showing that even hobbits could be sodomites. And when Cy Endfield made his 1964 film Zulu, he insisted on casting numerous actors of colour.
One of the mos
t successful franchises in history is, of course, Star Wars. The influence of these films can barely be overstated, but when it comes to representation they leave a lot to be desired. If Luke Skywalker had been cast as an aborigine back in 1977, racism would have been eliminated by now.
Then there is the question of sexual minorities. The paucity of LGBTQIA+ representation in the original Star Wars trilogy is clearly homophobic. As far as I can tell, there’s only one lesbian character. She makes a brief appearance in Return of the Jedi, when Jabba the Hutt throws Luke Skywalker into her pit.
The most recent Star Wars films, which tend to come out every month or so, are being made by Disney, a mass media conglomerate that was founded by an American cartoonist who had his body frozen so that he could come back to life once all the Jews had gone.
These newer instalments are far more progressive than those made in the late seventies and early eighties. The writers of Rogue One: A Star Wars Story have noted that ‘the Empire is a white supremacist (human) organisation’ which is opposed in the film ‘by a multicultural group led by brave women’. This is important, because if works of fiction don’t send a positive message about diversity, it’s difficult to see what function they serve. Movies exist to educate us, not to entertain. Orlando Bloom, for instance, has starred in a whole series of films in order to teach us that he has no discernible talent whatsoever.
I’m reminded of a quotation by the novelist Sabine Baring-Gould: ‘God made most folks of clockwork and stuck them on their little plots of soil to spin round and run their courses, like the figures on an Italian barrel-organ.’ We must accept that, for most people, free will is a myth. The working classes in particular are forever teetering on the brink of fascism. If we don’t instruct them how to think and feel through the careful cultivation of popular culture, we risk nudging these malleable creatures into the abyss.
But it isn’t just the movies that influence the behaviour of plebeians. Other forms of entertainment are also to blame for the current pandemic of Nazism sweeping our nation. It’s been fifty years since the beloved sitcom Dad’s Army was originally broadcast, but nobody has ever thought to ask why there were no women of colour in the cast. Why not?
Many feminists have argued that there need to be more strong female characters in television dramas. On the other hand, as screenwriter Daisy Goodwin has pointed out, by depicting women in powerful roles producers are guilty of ‘airbrushing reality’. I would therefore like to see more shows in which women are depicted as powerful in order to send a positive message, but simultaneously depicted as weak in order to reflect the ways in which women are oppressed in society.
Comedy is another supe r-proble matic area. Now I should say from the outset that I’ve never been interested in comedy. I haven’t smiled since nursery school, and I regret that moment even now.
And why should I smile? Life is merely the shitty prelude to death.
Jokes are violence. This is because humour is a patriarchal construct, which explains why the stand-up industry has historically been so dominated by straight males, and a few gay ones here and there if they mince enough. As award-winning comedian Hannah Gadsby has said, stand-up is ‘an art form designed by men for men’. Gadsby is at the forefront of a courageous new wave of feminist comics subverting the genre by ensuring that it doesn’t make anyone laugh.
For too long, comedians have assumed that they can make light of anything and get away with it. Comedy needs to be purged of jokes that reinforce bigotry. Allow me to demonstrate:
When my wife and I argue we’re like a band in concert: we start with some new stuff, and then we roll out our greatest hits.
Frank Skinner (legitimising domestic violence)
West Mersea police announced tonight that they wish to interview a man wearing high heels and frilly knickers. But the Chief Constable said they must wear their normal uniforms.
Ronnie Corbett (normalising transphobia or something)
I have a theory that Jordan married a cage fighter because she needed someone strong enough to stop Harvey from fucking her.
Frankie Boyle (making the misogynistic assumption that a woman would be incapable of fending off her son without the help of her husband)
Reading over these ‘jokes’, it feels as though Hitler never died. It’s clear that we urgently need to move into a new era of woke comedy, one that is carefully policed to ensure that all sensibilities are catered for. As Matt Zoller Seitz observed in an article for Vulture, straight white male performers will still be welcome, but they’ll have to learn to listen ‘when somebody calls them out on their subject matter, their joke writing, or their political opinions’. If these patriarchal comedians can’t be bothered to self-censor in order to avoid perpetuating harmful stereotypes, then frankly they can suck my box.
Nica Burns, the director of the Edinburgh Comedy Awards, gave an impassioned speech to launch the 2018 festival fringe in which she said she was ‘excited’ by ‘the woke movement, which is setting an ever-evolving agenda as it seeks to establish a clear marker for what is unacceptable today’. Such major figures in the comedy industry are right to insist on these parameters, and to remind us that the purpose of comedy is to educate the masses in matters of social decorum and the limits of free speech. If comedy is too humorous, this goal is unlikely to be achieved.
And it’s not just comedians who will have to be reprogrammed. UK police officers have already been offered ‘banter training’ to combat the rise of problematic mirth. According to the workshop leaders, the course ‘puts political correctness in its place, recognises the benefits of fun at work and focuses on the risks and responsibilities for all concerned’. Light-hearted jokes, if not properly regulated, can very quickly spiral out of control. Let’s not forget that Al-Qaeda started off as an improvisational sketch group.
Ultimately, we all have a choice about what entertainment we consume, which in turn determines whether or not we can satisfy the prerequisites for wokeness. For instance, I only like music if it is produced by artists from marginalised groups. Def Leppard is a good example, because the drummer lacks an arm. Then there is Gabrielle, who is black, female and missing an eye. Lily Allen is another sound choice because she is clearly retarded.
Hip hop music is sublime, with the exception of white rap artists such as Eminem, Vanilla Ice and Pam Ayres. But while enjoying rap, one must guard against cultural appropriation. When Kendrick Lamar invited a white fan onto the stage to sing along to his song ‘M.A .A.D City’ at a concert in Alabama, he was forced to interrupt when she repeatedly used the n-word. Nobody can fathom why the girl indulged in this racist outburst. Some have surmised that it might have something to do with the word being a continual feature in the song’s lyrics.
There can be no justification for whites using the n-word. One must have the necessary urban credentials before making proclamations such as ‘Dayum nigga, dem wypipo be keepin’ ma niggas down n’ sheeit’, which I believe is a quotation from Rachel Dolezal’s autobiography.
I am all for artistic liberty, but when it comes to cultural appropriation, or causing offence to disenfranchised groups, I do maintain that art should be subject to a degree of censorship.
There’s a simple formula. If it entertains, it’s entertainment. If it offends, it’s hate speech. It’s up to the woke elite to supervise the boundaries.
Join us.
Comedy
Hatejokes spat into beseeching ears
As laughter downslams victimly
Onto frail heads triggered by
Non-nonbinary tyrants on a stage.
Haha is not my pronoun.
Punchlines are bayonets, severing throats
In a toxic chucklesmog of despair.
A homicidal mirth-whore speaks blood
And spills his surly mousse of ruination.
A second Rwanda.
With a ‘knock knock’ here
And a ‘who’s there’ there,
The slapstick slopschtick in a
shockjock slipstream.
Corpulent beavers rinse their sleeves
On the semi-skimmed tinsel of woe.
‘It’s just a joke,’ the dagger shrieks
As it rapes the flesh of ad-libbed gaghags.
We are left broken and clownhumped
While chickens cross their roads
To fuck orphans with their gnarly beaks.
Mummy
You want a piece of me, Mummy?
Try my fibula, sharpened and thrust into your yawning heart.
I am wombed too buckly
To eat out a herd of quadrupeds,
Slippered grim by fate,
Prancing outwards within a glimmering hoop of offal.
I am a suicidal beacon of brainsoup.
Sunken, downtime for the pitchfork fingerprick
Tugging at the eunuch’s scab with shitty pincers.
Mummy spreads my face
Across a leering lap of blood,
And stitches herself to an anvil of iniquity, tenfold.
Why do you keep that toffee apple in your hair, Mummy?
I did not consent
To be spunk-shunted into this world.
You had no right to murder me with life.
Mummy, Mummy,
Your soul is a dildo of hate.
I Am Titania McGrath
Titania,
Roaster of gammon,
With a flak-peppered parapet-chin, lofted.
Crypto-fascists tremble as I roar.
With gutpluck I steer the probing lance of virtue,
Like a laughing foreskin within a scarecrow’s craw.
Valiant ecosexual Nazi-sniffer,
Swatting barbed words from cis-ethnic incubi
And brunching on the uber-problematic.
Through trolls with swastika smiles I crash,
The alpha female to a male omega,
A second Christ, a slay queen pioneer.
Woke Page 8