Obligatory egalitarianism; the curse of our pretty principles.

May 24th, 2016 by Socially Extinct


The other day I “coined” a phrase in a comment which has stuck with me.



It’s like there’s this sense of obligatory egalitarianism in the West but sometimes dictatorships are best for getting the job done ;)



Disfigured smiley aside, I believe this little utterance says a lot about the futile nature of a society bound by its democratic principles in a world where its adversaries harbor no such delusions.


Our sense of “obligatory egalitarianism” is, as noted, obligatory in the sense that we can envision no other way without a shudder. Egalitarianism, its facade, regardless of its pragmatic application (usually falling far short of absolute in most cultural working models), an innate ingredient to the recipe that perpetuates our worldview and expectations of this nebulous holy form of our national existence. Egalitarianism, this dogmatic equality we nearly accept as a “God-given right,” is something our national character wears as a mark of pride. It is that which separates us from the beasts. But it is that which shackles our fluidity, as well.


It is this sense of obligatory egalitarianism that makes us “nice” and vulnerable in a world where such lofty ideals are not shared or admired. Such considerations of equality condemn us to prolonged, drawn-out spectacles of action which ultimately, manifest as inaction given the tepid nature of such watered down decisions (due to the nature of an egalitarian process required to generate a course of action). Obligatory egalitarianism spawns a government system that, over time, and faced with certain enemies, buckles under the weight of determining the best national expression of a decisive and strong response.


Everyone is “equal” and thus it is rude and reprehensible to think that anyone be granted the ability to make decision unilaterally. The neutralizing branches of government will see to it no one makes efficient, concise decisions. Yet, our adversaries, harboring no such silliness, simply do while we squander decisive response through communal dialogue that has grown under the weight of its own bureaucratic layers of officiousness. By the time the decision tree culminates in some sort of democratic response, it is diluted and clogged with domestic political agenda.


We need to be able to revert to dictatorial decision-making in certain matters of global dispute, for we are battling fiends who don’t care about, and in fact, revile, our pretty principles.



In Spanish, manzana means apple; in English it means profit.

May 22nd, 2016 by Socially Extinct


A new drug, a synthetic pain killer called Fentanyl, is laying waste to the white-trashed backwaters of Americana.



This is the human toll of the illegally made painkiller fentanyl, a synthetic narcotic that presents a new level of peril in the opioid crisis ravaging the U.S. Up to 50 times as powerful as heroin, and cheaper to produce, fentanyl is the end result of a drug trade that has proven wildly innovative and difficult to stop.
Unlike heroin, which requires large swaths of land for poppy production, fentanyl is the product of simple chemistry. U.S. officials believe much of the supply comes from illegal labs in Mexico, meaning there is no need for prescribing doctors, the enablers of an earlier generation of American pain-pill abuse. Some buyers have even ordered fentanyl, or close imitations of it, through the mail from factories in China.
Fentanyl is a reason why deadly overdoses from painkillers continue to climb in the U.S., reaching a record 18,893 in 2014, according to the National Center for Health Statistics. Fentanyl-related fatalities are soaring in many parts of New England, the Midwest and the South. In 12 states racked by the crisis, including New Hampshire, Massachusetts and Ohio, more than 5,500 people died of fentanyl-related overdoses between 2013 and 2015, according to data compiled by The Wall Street Journal. The figure likely is higher because only partial numbers are available for some years.




I have an idea.


Let’s blame Mexico!


Let’s blame Mexico for America’s genetic foggy depravity. And while we’re at it, we’ll blame Bill Gates for America’s inability to engage.



Two sides of the same coin, perhaps?



…and pets it, too.

May 22nd, 2016 by Socially Extinct

If you Google Image “a fugly girl gets her cake…”



Ego Kings

May 22nd, 2016 by Socially Extinct


In the spirit of my Gender Fairness post a few minutes ago, don’t men deserve their own moniker for the XY version of “drama queen?”


I’m thinking “Ego King” would work.



If so, I present Exhibit A:

Female psychopath, redux: how about them female douchebags?

May 22nd, 2016 by Socially Extinct


Back in 2009 when I started this rambling shitfest of bloggery (which I didn’t anticipate careening into the 3rd decade of this questionable century), I had all sorts of ideas. All sorts of laughable, graceless missteps and shameless (clueless) eruptions of brainstorm-ism. And they pretty much have turned all to shit. It’s been a good run, however. Can’t complain; only laugh.


Something rekindled these thoughts the other day. I was thinking of a broad I work with.  She is the most vile, sloppy, grotesque female I have ever known. I was trying to think of the perfect term to define her, one which would capture her despicable essence and aural degradation. What is it, I pondered.


Then yesterday, it struck!


She is a…douchebag. A fucking douchebag sow.


Eats so much and has such a startling paunch that she can barely walk to the restroom without getting audibly winded.  But beyond these repulsive physical travails, she has the most repulsive XX personality known to mankind. She is loud, foul, manipulative, dishonest, disingenuous, ignorant and grating to the point of auto-asphyxia.


She is a female douchebag.


Ah, and this is where I faltered. The word took so long to occur to me because it seems a natural conflict, mutational, to call a female such a thing as this.


Back to my original point. When I started this blog, I thought it would be cool to write a series of posts which highlighted and gave free publicity (as in 2 additional readers) to all privileged members of my signature-class blogroll. And this mission I obeyed, for a while. One of those early “blogroll additions” was one I wrote about a website called “Hot Chicks with Douchebags,” a vastly perambulating traipse into that netherworld where seedy, tattooed Alpha-boys find their immature, clownish extravagances humored by bimbos and empty-headed T&A shells of every sort. I was further astounded to learn that this site is still alive. It has been updated, the theme upgraded, modernized, but the subject matter has persistently remained true to form, while the accompanying witty editorial and observational tete a tete remains, even bolder now.


As I scrolled, it occurred to me why I never thought of this sow I work with in the context of “douchebag.”


It’s because no one else does.


If women are not qualified to be douchebags, perhaps it’s time to think of a term that can encompass this swelling corner of the female market. There are many female douchebags and the numbers are growing exponentially. As we are to apparently imply by the lack of douchebag appellations consciously applied across the female population.  Maybe it’s time to designate a female corollary to this type of man:






The phrase “female douchebag” might, in the greater context of modern femininity, straddle the line of redundancy, but still, I would like to presume that the majority of women are not douchebags. Unfortunately, observation tends to inform me that female douchebagger is increasingly the case with most young girls.


Female douchebags are loud and shrill.  They use volume as a tool of control and subversion. They have no scruples, no honor, no sense of right or wrong. Since they are vastly unappealing to most men, they do not need to sieve their sexual appeal against the innate female instinct which favors unprincipled and utilitarian rationalization.


The female douchebag has nothing to lose (for in the sexual marketplace, she has already lost) so she displays her wanton behavior promiscuously and flagrantly. She acts like a mass of unrestrained flesh and mind; the weak gravitate to her, and there are enough weak men in 21st century Western society to ward off her innate boredom. She is gluttonous in all respects and will ricochet from post to post until she is fed thoroughly and abundantly.


The female douchebag needs to be fed in all aspects of her repulsive existence.


The female douchebag, like her male counterpart, live entirely outside their skin. Hers is a world of external justification and validation. There is no inner world, no inner mind; no soul. The female douchebag is thus only a shell of an existence and script that is molded continuously by a society she slithers though, serpentine-like, constantly learning to manifest the affectations of sincere minds and souls.


The female douchebag can be spotted by her vacant stare; her shifty eyes fail to embrace that which is you, or me. For we are all merely props on her extended self-serving stage.


She is not douchebag.


She is the female psychopath.