Tuesday, September 26, 2017

Advice for the Lovelorn Lefty Mental Patient...

This will be, by my estimation, the 40,000,012th time I have had to say this publicly, and it's unfortunately a sign of the times that I have to keep repeating myself:

The Overlord does not care if you are gay; he has his own problems, thank you very much...

Sometimes, there are hyperlinks you just shouldn't click on.

Curiosity, however, can only be overcome with a great deal of discipline, and some days you just ain't on your 'A' game that way.

Besides, who doesn't need a laugh?

Except that this isn't funny. Least of all to the people involved. Frankly, I find it rather sad and indicative of the very poor state of the American Mental Health System.

Everyone needs love. This is something so obvious that it should not have to be said. Human beings are social creatures and require the companionship of others of our kind, for our own well-being, for company, for intellectual (and other kinds of) stimulation, to give life some kind of meaning. Not to go all girly-emo on you all, but even the cruel and uncaring Would-be Master of the Universe understands the need for love.

It's why I demand that my minions grovel at my feet in blind adoration.

It has been my experience that love is easy; to get, to receive, to enjoy. It is one of the few human emotions that can be pure and unconditioned by trivial nonsense. You love the people you love because...you just DO. There is no need to question it, no requirement that it be examined within an inch of it's rhetorical life. Something sparks love within, and it does not pay, very often, to complicate it.

However, we're dealing with human beings.

And this is where shit starts hitting the proverbial fan, fast and furiously.

People complicate everything, even the simplest, innocent and genuine of things, because people, for lack of a better term, fucking suck.

It's not enough, for some, to simply love for it's own sake because like everything else in modern life, they have been conditioned and expect to have it on their own terms and very often those terms become an insurmountable obstacle. Mostly because terms are dictated by something other than the very basic need to simply love and be loved.

I normally don't think about stuff like this, and if I'm waxing philosophic (and badly) on the subject, then I apologize. It's just that this fucking internet thing has the ability to put before one questions which one has left unexamined, if one had even as much as a momentary thought about them, to begin with.

This past weekend I came across two articles about lovelorn lefties who can't imagine why it's so difficult to find the person of their dreams (or at least the proper genitalia of their daydreams). As I read these recitations of the trials and tribulations of their most unsatisfying affairs of the heart (and other parts), the reasons why they were having so much trouble crystallized before my eyes.

And I could do nothing but laugh...well, except puke, that one time...but mostly laugh.

The articles had one thing in common: the primary actors in each of them seemed to have a problem with Reality.

In each case, the protagonists are either so picky, or so insane, that they make it nearly impossible to meet their own requirements.

One also gets the impression that this failure is both, sub-consciously, sought after and wanted. For the romance of "struggle", of any kind, which often accompanies a leftist political ideology, is often a drug to a certain personality type, primed to undermine themselves in a fit of unnecessary drama just so that others will pat them on the back and say "you poor thing, you". It's a Martyr Complex.

Sympathy is as addictive as cocaine, and the high just as good, and as fleeting.

The striking thing about both examples is the sheer shallowness of the individuals being discussed. It's all about THEM, and if there's something peculiar about unconditional love, at least to my mind, it is that it always requires some form of surrender of or sublimation of the self. For love is meaningless -- sez me --  unless there is a tacit understanding that there is, one hopes, someone else involved. You cannot have love if there's only ever one person, for all practical purposes, in love, and the object of that love is not another.

You won't have it when the person in love is really in love with their self, and sees the other as merely an accessory to the whole thing;  as a person who simply validates your self-love, or your political leanings, or unrealistic self-image. Because you're not really asking that other person to love you for you, but for who you think you are. Or for who you want to be.

Love, therefore, requires a series of sacrifices. It has to. It won't work without them.

I'm probably doing as very bad job at explaining what I'm on about, because this emotional dreck is not my stock-in-trade, so I'll probably be better off by letting you read what I have read, and let's see if you can't sort-of-kind-of see what I'm getting at.

Our first example is a missive to an advice columnist from a self-described "Marxist-Feminist Slut, Seeking an Open Relationship".

My only advice to this self-centered mess of self-hating female hormones is this:

Biology always wins. You can try to fool yourself into believing that politics and an adopted identity can overcome the basic human instincts, but you are mistaken. Grossly mistaken. For first and foremost, you are a female, and this means that biology has played some tricks on you that no amount of constructed-from-thin-air ideology will ever change.

Biology has made you an emotional creature. It has given you things like a sense of jealousy, a possessive nature, a need for security, that operate on a psychological and chemical level that you cannot access. It is all sub-sub-conscious and this system is in full-roar 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year. You can no more stop it through conscious effort or politics than you can halt the orbits of the planets.

You have been biologically-primed to give birth. Your body is designed for it, and so is your mind. You may cry all day that "Monogamy is Capitalist!", but you are hardwired for it. Perhaps at this moment you believe that things might be different, but  you are wrong. A day will come when the Unwashed Proletariat of your dreams comes along, and Biology will kick in, and you will fairly scream for all things Monogamous, and exclusive, and protective, and secure, that will override your hollow Marxism, and your trifling belief in Feminism.

For you will want to reproduce. You can say you don't want to, but it's probably a safe bet to expect that you will want to.

And because Biology is at work here, the fact that you will eventually be giving birth (because the question of abortion becomes moot when it's your own kid, and your body and mind both agree they are ready for it) to an 8-pound, bawling mass of protoplasm that will be unable to care for itself for years to come (up to age 26, for the purposes of Obamacare) demands that you have a partner who is willing to make sacrifices commensurate with your own.

You will need help. You will need a provider. You will need a protector. And that helper/provider/protector will need to have his own emotional attachment to your shitting bundle of baby puke, not to mention to you, because without it he might jump off a bridge or shoot himself in the head in order to find some relief from the lack of sleep, the bills, the sheer aggravation and drama that comes with unplanned emergency room visits, "Daaaaad, pleeeease?", bad grades, minor traffic accidents, soiled diapers, and teenaged mood swings that the Owner's Manual warned him about, but which Reality did not prepare him for.

And frankly, Reality did not prepare you for it, either, so you're in this leaky lifeboat together, your sluttiness, open-relationship, Marxist-Feminist bullshit, notwithstanding.

Grow up, keep your knees together in the same zip code, and start finding a decent man who can bring in the means of support, instead of ineffectually rail against The System and quote Mao from memory. That's not a job, and it doesn't feed anyone.

Besides, I can tell from your complaint that you are an Upper Middle Class White Chick, anyway, and what Biology doesn't tell you is an ideal mate, your social experience does: that means a spineless capitalist with income potential who is content to simply nod his head and comply with your bullshit for occasional sex, but mostly to avoid having his assets stripped from him in the eventual divorce.

A Perfect match for the self-proclaimed Marxist: someone they can extract a living from for minimal effort.

Enjoy your new life!

The second example is so...what's the word I'm looking for? Right...GAY...that after I read it, I had to talk to a few of my homosexual friends and acquaintances to make sure I understood what was happening here.

Yes, you've read that correctly: Your Overlord has homosexual friends. In his former existence as an IT professional in the financial sector, he discovered that gays are as common as kudzu on the side of a Bible-Belt highway. This doesn't make them bad people, and I would go as far as to say that 99% of my associates of this persuasion are fine people who I shall not be embarrassed nor ashamed to be friendly with. You just have to understand where they're coming from (and overlook what they're often cumming IN).

Taking out my broad brush with which to paint, it has been my experience that what makes most people gay (discounting the effects of unhealthy relationships with one parent or another, or the consequences of physical/emotional/sexual abuse) can be categorized, thusly:

1. There is a constant need for attention. Any kind of attention. Even negative attention. Many of these folks are a constant Black Hole for attention; they suck it (oh, no...you didn't go there, did you?) in like a Hoovervac, and if they can't get it, they will connive to get it with outrageous and exaggerated behavior. They want to provoke a response -- any response -- because doing so provides them with the attention they desire.

The campiness, the cross-dressing, the exaggerated male/female affectations, the unserious suicide attempts, the overly-emotional responses, the constant jokes that reference their Gay, are all attempts to get attention. Even the impetus to being Gay is usually driven by this need for attention: having tried everything else, some find the only thing left to them is to turn gender norms and sexual practices inside-out and upside-down, if only to generate outrage and puzzlement.

2. Many are suffering from a variety of mental illnesses that begins with narcissism, traverses low self-esteem, tiptoes around the tulips of denial, spans the gap between physical and emotional realities, and eventually falls to Earth with a great, big splatter upon the trash heap of drug and alcohol abuse, and a deep self hatred that may lead to to the aforementioned suicide attempt, or go even further to the point of trying to erase their own existence.

Transexuals are people who hate themselves so much that they want to become someone else, in my opinion, and completely delete the memory of who they once were. Which is an exercise in Cognitive Dissonance, come to think of it:

How am I supposed to accept someone for what they are when they couldn't even accept themselves for who they were?

3. Most will have some ax to grind with society. Daddy didn't love them, so they will attempt to find love from other men who's Daddies didn't love them, either. They were marginalized as children and grew up feeling like outcasts. Some are angry with a world that didn't give them what they wanted, who didn't recognize how "special", talented, whatever they are/were, and so feeling rejected by society, they decide to reject society's norms and practices.

Again, broad-brush. Spare me the hate mail.

Anyway, I found this article to have a very peculiar (I mean other than the subject matter) tone to it, and I decided that what was sticking out in my mind was the absolute phoniness of the whole thing.

Under the guise of writing a lament to the lack of love in his/her/it's friend's lives, I detected a large dollop of braggadocio; they're not getting any... but I am. Everyone should be LIKE ME! Because I'm so fucking awesome!

So, I polled (ouch!) my gay friends (five of them, so this isn't exactly scientific) and asked them if they agreed. Which they all did. The author, far from asking an honest question or attempting to help his/her/it's friends, or even to inform 'merica about the phenomenon of transgender or non-binary assholes who can't get dates or laid, despite "fame" and virtue signalling, is really bragging about how often his/her/it's holes are being filled, despite being a fucking freak of nature.

(Incidentally, "fucking freak of nature" are not my words. These were uttered by two of my respondents, who explained that even in Gay Circles the question of the transgendered, non-binary, whatever, over-the-top-for-show-faggot -- as they put it -- is one that raises eyebrows, if only because within a community in which everyone is seeking to be recognized/noticed/fawned over, these folks have gone to extraordinary lengths which makes others not willing to do the same jealous. I'm told gay men can be extremely catty this way. I was like, "no shit?").

We're not even talking about the particulars here. The deliberate targeting of straight men on social media (if it's a fantasy of straight men to "convert" lesbians, why shouldn't gay men have a similar fantasy with regards to straight men?), the automatic expectation that everyone should be unrepulsed, even comfortable, with their choice, the utter cluelessness that just can't fathom WHY a straight man wouldn't want a little something extra, or even worse, the narcissism that becomes an excuse -- other gays/trans/non-whatevers will associate with you because you're famous, but only because of who you are; they'll still reject you for WHAT you are, and somehow this is "unfair".

So, I will give these folks some advice which I hope will be helpful.

Find yourself a really good psychiatrist. I mean really good, not just some asshole who dispenses pills, but someone who will finally help you to get over yourself. One who can help you put your illness in it's proper context, maybe even help you return to Objective Reality. It's okay if you still want to be gay, we'll still love and respect you, if only because you're a fellow human being, but you have got to come to terms with what you are doing.

It's so blatantly obvious that even the blind can see it.

You can't expect to be loved when it's clear you don't love yourself, and you advertise that self-hatred every day of you life for all the world to see.

Your problem isn't that people won't "accept" you, nor even that your lifestyle and choices aren't "normalized", it's that you've gone too far in making YOU the center of the galaxy, expecting everyone to simply orbit your self-bestowed glory, while simultaneously making every conscious effort to ensure that YOU doesn't even exist, anymore, with surgery, hormone treatments, electrolysis, cosmetics, etc, etc.

The Role became the Actor, and where one begins and the other ends, no one is certain. That doesn't make for a healthy relationship of any kind, let alone a loving one.

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