My Service Salute to Liberated White Women

Dear White Women,

Women in the West are indispensable to the current Western order and function, and most of those women are, of course, white like you. It was you, white women, who have contributed like no other women at large since the death of the Roman Republic. Your ‘freedom’ has atomized the white-man patriarchy, the most benevolent, gifted, giving group of men of history, who are now politically defunct, as they should be. But that atomization process is doubling, doubling, doubling down. Oh, how much more giving the natural-born white male of today is from his very soul! and all for you. You have taken the politically viable portion of our masculinity itself. I can’t love you enough!

Which is why I gave up.

Your sincerity from your ‘heart’ is all things, even to me. Here I am, fapfull and loveless, which is a grand improvement, my dears, from when I cared about you. Whisper your pillow-talk lies in the Western man’s bed. Bend your son’s juvenile mind to your whim in ex-husband’s stead. Things are so great with your unfettered contributions. I know your expressions of emotion are almost always a calculated lie, straight from your empty, black, effectively anti-white heart.

The corruption of the gigundous Roman Empire broke the trust but removed the incentives of formerly great white men necessary to produce, to love, to care. They were fed bread, circus, plays, pablum. They undoubtedly fapped. I expect only the politically elite could fuck actual women and get away with it. Ovin, an intellectual among multicultural churls as his ‘betters’, turned his superiority to poetry and the Art of Love. Men can play your game and better. It’s as good of a guess as any for why Ovin was banished by Emperor Augustus not many years after the reputed birth of Jesus the miracle man. I could use a few already, if you’re listening, my Lord Evolution. You’re lord too, woman. You’re heart made you do it, predictably, don’t cha know.

Now that white men at large, not the political elite but the rest of us, are out of the way, we can give you your freedom, and most especially, your freedom from expectations. How dare us damnably decent white men in all things but taking bind you with expectations and obligations not of your designs. That’s why you hate us, don’t cha know, for our ineptitude at taking what is readily taken in the current moment.

I now firmly have no expectations to which you can’t comfortably, lazily stoop. I know that in this polizc stayt so progressively progressive that it is beyond wire tapping, wife tappin’, woo rappin’, love mapping, and truth capping. We have no future to chart, socially apart, but to fill your heart, simply click ‘add to cart’, you stinkin’ fart, moldy tart, sour mart, take your wares, your cares, your truths and dares, and part, before death, right now, ya cow, but your insides I now see, just wow!

My expectations are that I am better as a person than you, that my only paranoia was the paranoia of paranoia that you sold me in my youth, dear mother, dear sister, dear friend, trusted co-worker, and work me over you did, brother. Look at the man you are today!

I can’t hold down a job. I can’t follow the herd sing-song of right and wrong. I can’t stand what you’ve made normal, who you’ve made the majority, what you’ve made average, acceptable, laudable, despicable. I can’t stand you, and I’m not alone. And these toxic feelz that go around are coming around, to roost in the bushes and the tushes and the hearts from whence it came. I see those who hold their jobs very well. Do you know how? Today it dawned on me how. The average man now works against you, bitch.

People are paid for what they don’t do not what they do do.

That’s your wet dream made government-sponsored reality, and the government does not actually produce what it consumes. It’s what you wanted. It’s the pussy pass über alles. You are too good for me. And I’m paying you for it through polizc stayt coercion that atomizes me into social, financial, political, sexual, emotional poverty. You have it all, and what you and yours have done with it. So fucking brilliant!

Native Westerners are scared of losing their jobs. I hope you are too. Do you know why workers are so curt to you as a customer? Because they are afraid you will get them fired. Natural selection from your heart at my expense has employed the brilliantly safe, efficiently autonomic modus operandi. Don’t expect miracles from healthcare workers. It’s a miracle if they relate to you as an actual person. What good is critical thinking outside the box when you are preggers, have VD, need heart surgery? These employment betters say as little as possible to keep their crummy jobs because, it must be, unemployment is crummier, and either she has an unbelievable image to maintain or he has indentured fatherhood to pay. You want an honest mechanic, little lady. lol Plumber for a fair price? What’s not fair in your love and war! You think your hygienist gives a shit who you are? Your co-workers? They want to hold on to what they’ve got, and you’re wellbeing cancer.

There is narrative. There is procedure. No one is accountable for the assembly line of state giving, except for the revenue collected, all not our concern. As for the service: Take. It. Or. Leave. It. You are not a person precisely because no man can own you, only Da Man. Only the elite executives who run things, control our boundary conditions.

Rome nominally fell in 476 and the Reformation became the status quo by the Peace of Westphalia in 1648. In other words, the liberation of Roman women from manipulative fathers and husbands to the arms of the luvin’ state was followed closely by more than a millennium of insufficient sincerity to buy and sell goods profitably. Instead, the serfs eked out a living scratching the soil for their respective lords of the castle. The decline-surviving plebs needed the castle walls as protection from the other plebs who made their livings as murders, thieves, barbarians, what the cute and cuddly Turd Word has in spades. And why should white European men not be murders, thieves, and barbarians with cooperation like yours? We are the wrong posterity for your rights, girlfriend. Fuck whoever however at will. Lie about the pill, the thrill, the skill, no husband Bill, your job at the mill for your house on the hill.

Every time a customer service worker sees you not as a person but a liability, that’s how I see you.

Every time a retail employee avoids friendly eye contact, that’s how I feel about you.

Every time a co-worker is afraid to be alone with you in a room, an elevator, a crowd, that’s my assessment of your worth.

Every time a neighbor doesn’t want to get involved, that’s how much I care.

Every time a public servant is indifferent to your welfare, that’s what you mean to your Man.

A woman always has a man, an authority figure. We would just forcibly fuck you otherwise. That’s in the fine print of your animal law, your animal truth that has no innate preference for you over me. There is no such thing as rape without a social order imposing property rights on pussy. You are owned as we all are, on the animal farm.

Granted, you wouldn’t fuck me like you wouldn’t fuck a man you can fuck over at will. Unless you are yet hot and half-way innocent, and that won’t last long, Sugar, I wouldn’t fuck you armed with a notarized fuck license and a spermicidal dry suit. We know what your word and government justice is worth. You are worth exactly what your elite enablers wanted you to become. You are a government-programmed assassin of white-man excellence. A killer of post-Industrial civilization and my noble affections. I. Hate. You. Soon you will notice. I am the instinctive masculine reaction to your instinctive feminine action, and I am everywhere that you have been, in everyone that you have manipulated.

No longer stupidly yours to be readily abused at your leisure,

—‘Reality’ Doug, 23 March 2017

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About ‘Reality’ Doug

I'm feed up with herd people, so civil and uncivilized, these feckless barbarians with manicures. Where is Galt's Gulch? and where are the people to go there? Who am I? Who is John Galt?
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