googliath

The Cold Civil War Branches Off

…Into an internecine squabble amongst the “Alt-Right.”

I’m way behind on everything. There are several overdue reviews I need to post, articles I need to write, books I need to read…not to mention all of my own projects on the backburner. But this development is significant enough that I’m gonna report on it now instead of trying to catch up.

Myself and others have been pointing out for years that we are in a cold civil war, with those who would destroy America (and their legions of useful idiots) on one side, and patriots, members of the Dissident Right, and the “Alternative Right” on the other. This cold war has not turned hot yet because, frankly, we are still too comfortable–even though the diseased system is in obvious decline.

But just when the voting base that put Trump in the White House should be unified, and reminding him of why we sent him there, we are rapidly becoming consumed with infighting instead.

First of all, the most obnoxious of the white tribalists in the “Alt-Right” finally became so annoying with their vain Racial Purity Diatribes and their Jewish Boogeyman Tropes, that even Vox Day grew irritated with them. For the last few years, Day and his followers have been preaching against ideology-based right-wing politics in favor of identity politics (in other words: “throw out that thar lame-ass Constitution and all them thar losers whut cling to it, ’cause all we need is muh white heritage ‘n’ muh Western Civiluzayshun”).

So far as that went, it was a promising development. National Socialists are not right-wing and never have been, and behold, Vox admitted as much.

The Neo-Nazis and other white supremacist groups are composed of angry white nerds who couldn’t find an outlet for their frustrations in gaming, skateboarding, or vampire cosplay, who are not exactly intellectual giants (those who aren’t actually leftist moles role-playing, that is). So when Vox Day called BS on them, they summoned what cognitive acumen they could pool to strike back.

They called him names.

Here’s where the positive development nosedives into Sewerville, because it was on Gab that they desperately slung their poo at him.

Unlike nearly all social media, Gab is a place where free speech is actually welcomed and encouraged. Specifically, it is an alternative to Twitter. I don’t have much time for any social media, but have enjoyed my Gab experience to date. I try not to follow back idiots, trolls, leftists (forgive the redundancy) or Alt-Retard Stormfront blowhards. So I read news links frequently, post occasionally, live and let live. Identity politics still aggravate me, and I don’t get along with those who blame the Jews for every problem under the sun, up to and including the condition of their parents’ basements. But they are free to spout their sophomoric rhetoric on Gab, just as the leftards spew their sophomoric America-hate and anti-male, anti-white rhetoric on Twatter, Faceborg, and everywhere else, blaming “racist” America for every problem under the sun, up to and including the condition of their parents’ basements. I don’t have to read their posts, and they don’t have to read mine.

Vox Day has been called names before. Just since I’ve become aware of him, I’ve seen a lot of that–and I’m certain that’s just a drop in the bucket. But for whatever reason, he decided that the accusation of pedophilia by some of these moronic cowards required legal countermeasures. He wanted the names of his accusers. Despite Vox Day being an ally and supporter, Gab did not cooperate. They not only refused to moderate the threads in question, but at some point decided to take/make the whole affair personal, as well.

Now Vox Day (AKA Theodore Beale) comes from money, and like many individuals raised with wealth, he can be a pompous ass at times. I wouldn’t be surprised at all if  he was arrogant with the Gab staff when making his demands. But it seems Gab responded in the worst possible way, insulting him, belittling his complaints, etc.

Day may or may not live up to his own estimation of his evil genius, but he does have a network. That network is comprised of competent men from many professions who can (and have) get stuff done for him. Some of those professionals are lawyers.

Both Day and Gab founder Andrew Torba are adamant that the law is on their side. Both can’t be right. But pride can cause even the most intelligent men to underestimate their opponents, overestimate themselves, and act a fool. I’m not an expert in the law, so I don’t know who is right, here. Neither can I predict who will prevail in the pending legal battle. What I can say is, the only people who will benefit from this internecine warfare are the enemies of both Torba and Day.

Meanwhile, Gab has chosen this time to take on the Goolag monopoly. Vox Day is doing the Google lawyers’ work for them by gathering and posting evidence of Gab’s moderation (or lack thereof), while Torba seems to believe it’s a contest to prove he is more of an alpha male than Day is.

The comment threads at Vox Popoli are populated by a few folks so savvy and perceptive I wish there were “like” buttons; some obvious and pathetic leftist trolls; and a whole lot of folks who are little more than denizens of a cult of personality. You would think the Gabbers who naturally support Torba in this conflict would be more inclined toward independent thought, on average.

You would be disappointed.

In junior high and high school, arguments were almost never won by using facts or logic, but by coming up with insults against your adversary to cause the inevitable crowd of onlookers to ooh, ahh, laugh or jeer. I’m sad to observe that little has changed since then. Gabbers are taking this opportunity to trash talk and launch ad hominem attacks against Day, as if ridiculing  everything they think they know about him proves that he will lose this battle. Of course the “Dread Ilk” and VFM (Vox’s “Vile, Faceless minions”) are also trash-talking as if the matter will be decided by bluster alone…but that’s to be expected from them.

And while this was going on, two much-needed debates took place: Vox Day against, in turn, Greg Johnson and someone claiming to be Andrew Anglin, arguing whether or not the National Socialists belong in the “Alt-Right,” or anywhere on the right at all.

They don’t, which is easily proven.

The cultural svengalis have spent 70+ years brainwashing  people on every side that the Nazis, Fascists, and other collectivist movements (sometimes even including Stalin’s USSR!) were/are from the right, so this is a worthwhile debate. And Vox Day is a sharp enough speaker to punch holes through the typical assumptions, even when he refuses to use some of the relevant arguments in the arsenal of info at his disposal.

Neither Johnson nor Anglin had much in the way of an argument, it turns out, though Johnson’s slick rhetoric likely had some goose-stepping halfwits mesmerized for a while. Anglin’s “argument” consisted mainly of asking Day questions and immediately interrupting before he could answer; to declare his ignorance as to the purpose of the debate; to blame “hook-nosed Jews” for all the evil in world history; to whine about personal attacks; and to make personal attacks of his own (for which there was no retaliation). To his credit, Vox Day tried to stay on topic. For whatever reason, I don’t think he was as effective as he could have been, but even by presenting only minimal evidence, he won easily.

However, when both Anglin and Day were finished, the host was absent, so they continued talking. Having abandoned the subject of the debate, Anglin proceeded to ask Day questions about the legal conflict with Gab. Anglin brought up the point that Day had, in the past, advised his followers to answer defamatory rhetoric in kind (his “punch back twice as hard” philosophy, which I believe is a good one in today’s political climate). In fact, Day had once advised them to call someone a pedophile in certain circumstances. In between the ceaseless interruptions, Day attempted to admit that he now understood that to be wrong, and bad advice. But in any event, just before the host reappeared to close the show, Day said, “I may be a hypocrite. You can accuse me of hypocrisy, but that doesn’t change anything.”

I haven’t attempted to comment on these forums for quite a while, but one person made the observation that I would have made: that of everything said during the entire recording, that last statement by Vox Day would be the only remark the Alt-Retards would repeat or remember. That one statement would comprise their entire summary, and it would replace the debate itself in their narrative.

Sure enough: I witnessed that exact prophecy fulfilled in the days following. With all the reasoning quotient of a Common-Core-educated 6th Grader, the trash-talking armchair pundits have conclusively proved that the Stealth-Left (#FakeRight) LARPing socialists are a legitimate part of the right-wing, because Vox Day admitted to hypocrisy regarding a separate issue.

Several Gabbers who support Andrew Torba and Gab (an admirable motivation, separate from the means) have dogpiled on, assuming not only that the statement caused Anglin to win the debate (which concluded before the statement was made), but that Vox Day’s “loss” of the debate somehow guarantees that Torba will prevail in the impending legal conflict.

It was thanks to Vox Day that I learned about the Aristotlian concept of rhetoric, and the fallacy of using dialectic when debating with those for whom emotion trumps reason. This helped me understand my frustrating history of futile arguments with halfwits, midwits and dimwits. I also peruse his blog regularly. That is not to say I agree with him on everything, or even most things. But I do have a fairly good grasp on his personality. He would undoubtedly deny that his strategy has backfired on him, but it’s hard to deny that some of his own tactics are being used against him.

As for Torba, I’d love to see him win against Goolag, and Twatter. And I’d like to see more social media rise up to challenge the ones controlled by the SJW hive mind. This squabble between allies is unfortunate at best, and I wish the parties involved would just drop it. But judging by the egos engaged, that’s just not going to happen. It’s becoming one more obstacle to ever winning the culture back.

founder

The Founder – an Analysis

This movie is “based on a true story.” The way it played out certainly seems plausible–probably even likely–but I don’t know much about the history of MacDonalds, so I can’t vouch for its accuracy. Whatever connection to reality it has, what I find remarkable is a metaphorical aspect that is shocking, in a Hollywood movie.

To summarize:

Ray Kroc is a traveling salesman in the 1954 Midwest who discovers an incredible success story in the food service industry. (Keep in mind that there was no such thing as “fast food” prior to the events depicted in this movie.) He discovers a truly revolutionary food-serving system at a little restaurant run by two brothers in southern California.

After being kicked around by the Great Depression and other hard knocks, the MacDonald Brothers harnessed their ingenuity, discipline, and shrewd business savvy to develop a business model that is successful beyond the scope of any similar venture. Through hard work, they fine-tune their system to nigh-perfection. They’re making good money; their customers love them, and they’re content with what they have.

MDs1

Ray Kroc sees dollar signs and tells the brothers they need to franchise. But the brothers have already tried that–and found that restaurant managers deviated from the business model while letting the quality fall. But, as Kroc has been taught, persistence can elevate a talentless hack into a a tycoon and he badgers them relentlessly. Against their better judgment, the MacDonald brothers  make a franchise deal with him. But they take precautions and insist that he signs off on a legal contract that ensures he uphold their standards, and that the lion’s share of the profits are retained by the franchises.

It’s a struggle from the beginning, and Kroc begins taking credit for their ideas and system. In fact, he doesn’t come up with a single idea of his own, but merely hijacks the ideas of others, twisting them to his own purposes. The brothers’ chief concern is their customers, and the quality of their product. Ray Croc’s primary concern is his own success, as he defines it. He willingly sacrifices anything to pursue it. He opens restaurants all over the country, and finally connects with  a shady character who teaches him how to screw over his partners.

MDs2

Long story short: he cheats them out of everything, and eventually they even lose their own personal restaurant (where they developed the system that revolutionized the food service industry). Incredibly, they agreed to a “handshake deal” on their cut of future profits, which, predictably, they never received a penny of. The standout dialog of the film is when Kroc admits that the law is completely on their side, due to the contract, but that he’ll win anyway because he can hire better lawyers and they can’t sustain the court battle it would take to retain their rights.

I couldn’t help but notice the similarity in modus opperandi between Ray Kroc, Bill Gates, and the devil himself.

There was another chord this movie struck which I couldn’t help noticing. More than once in the film, MacDonalds is equated with America itself. The parallels are hard to ignore.

  • The founders of the American republic designed a system which led to the greatest levels of both liberty, and prosperity, in recorded history.
  • Against the better judgment of our forebears, enemies of our republic were allowed  to infiltrate, and invited into positions of power.
  • Those domestic enemies  gradually attained a monopoly on the amazing wealth generated by our free market economy, and of course  put that wealth to use toward the destruction of the very system that gave them the opportunity to accumulate that wealth.
  • Simultaneously, they took over government at all levels: the banks; academia; the press; the entertainment industry; the tech industry; giant corporations…and turned them all into weapons against the revolutionary system of government they benefited from–against our liberty; against our prosperity; against our culture; and even against institutions that predated the republic–like the family itself. Rarely did they contribute anything worthwhile to their respective industries, but nonetheless profited from the innovation and hard work of those who did.
  • What the usurpers have done, are doing, and intend to do, is illegal. The law of our land is against them, but they don’t care about that; and they believe we are too ignorant and/or apathetic to ever challenge them on it. Besides, they now have all the money, control over the police and the courts, and legions of useful idiots spread throughout the population who will defend their machinations fanatically.
  • They have stripped our republic of its remarkable wealth (assigning it to themselves and their proxies) and replaced it with staggering debt that can never be repaid even if taxes were raised to 100% for the next century. Replacing our real money with fiat currency was basically a handshake deal in which the only financial backing to the “US Dollar” (Federal Reserve Note) they left in place was the confidence in the dollar from the consumer.
  • Just as Ray Croc used some bizarre reasoning that included churches and flags to convince the MacDonald brothers to franchise “for their country,” our domestic enemies have repeatedly appealed to patriotism and Christian morals (both of which they despise) to convince US Citizens to fight and/or support foreign wars that don’t serve the interests of the American people at all. (Quite the opposite, usually.) Furthermore…”The Patriot Act.” ‘Nuff said.
  • Just as Ray Croc attained ownership of the real property the MacDonalds Empire was built upon, our enemies have seized the natural resources and “public lands” of the USA for themselves, and use our tax $$ to fund alphabet-soup pseudo-armies quartered among us to deny citizens access to our “public lands” by force of arms.
  • Our enemies intend to leave us completely destitute and dependent on them for sustenance after they have gobbled up every last iota of wealth for themselves, and provided for their own survival of the catastrophe they are developing.

No typical film director in Homowood, Commiefornia, would ever intentionally encode a message like this into a movie, as it works against The Narrative they push onto us with every other cinematic effort. Perhaps this is another instance of a Dunning-Kruger victim outsmarting himself.

What the $%#&@*!! is This “Alt-Left” Stuff?

memeleftright

There is no “alt-left.” There is just the same old left wing we’ve had for over a century. There is no need for an alternative left because Marxists/cultural Marxists, Democrats, “liberals,” progressives, feminists, etc., don’t target those on their own side with friendly fire.

(Unlike the right wing, where RINOs, NeoCons and others supposedly on our side habitually backstab those who won’t compromise away our principles, and where leftist moles masquerade as right-wingers.)

Here’s a refresher:

LEFTright

And then, here’s a representation of the non-revisionist model:

The actual left-right paradigm is quite different from what you were probably taught.
The actual left-right paradigm is quite different from what you were probably taught.

Institutional Election Fraud: the Unmasking

There most certainly has been tampering in our national elections. But it was not just in 2016 and it was not perpetrated by the Russians.

One point he can’t resist making is that there is a threat to our electoral system and it has nothing to do with Russia, Russia, Russia. It’s from the crooks pushing the Russia narrative, the Democrats. 

In other words: not the Russians, but the Communists.

Just like the polls showing Hillary leading by 12 points, the claims that she won the popular vote were suspect from the start.

dunkirk_beach2

The Mystery of Dunkirk

Why on Earth was the British Expeditionary Force allowed to escape in 1940?

That is the question everyone with a modicum of military savvy has to ask when examining the story of Dunkirk. (Well at least after coming down from your outrage due to underrepresentation in the film of Pygmy hermaphrodites, transgender unicorns, and Badass Warrior Womyn in front-line combat formations.) One positive side effect of the recent movie I’ve noticed is that some folks are indeed asking that question.

The Wermacht steamrolled over Poland and France despite the disparity of numbers, displaying a functional combined arms doctrine the world had never seen before… and yet allowed Britain’s army a second chance to fight them (when they inevitably returned with a more powerful ally), despite being poised to cut them off from the sea and destroy their ability to fight.

Not every fan of history knows the reason Dunkirk was allowed to succeed. Historians usually explain it away with one dubious claim or another. When I found out the truth, I just had to shake my head. And yet…it made sense.

A British historian spent the post war period interviewing the German high command, and its field marshals. The book he wrote clears up this and many other curiosities about WWII in the European Theater. I highly recommend it.

An added bonus is the reactions you’ll receive just toting the paperback around. On the cover is an image of a Nazi-era German flag, which happens to have a swastika on it. Rabid SJW thought police will be triggered, while public-educated FaceBorg junkies will often just run away. It’s Wolfenstein 3D all over again–but without intrusion into your gaming fun!

 

 

Proelium Banner01

Proelium Veritas by John Murphy

The sequel to Mission Veritas is finally out. I haven’t yet had a chance to start this dystopian military sci-fi novel (my categorization–not necessarily the author’s), but will post a review once I’ve consumed it. Meanwhile, here’s the skinny:

 

Vaughn Killian knows two things: what brutal combat is really like, and that the Carthenogens are anything but benevolent.

The good news is he’s completed the elite Black Saber training and is ready to deploy. The bad news is he’s being held back from assignment due to a technicality. When disaster strikes, he helps plan a counterattack, only to wind up adrift in space, stranded half a galaxy away from Earth, where his skills are needed most.

The people of Earth are still under the Carthenogens’ utopian delusion. The Global Alliance does their bidding, carving up city after city in a grand relocation plan, but most relocated people never arrive. Instead, they’re disappearing somewhere by the interstellar boatload. But the media mentions none of that. The population is kept in the dark, and the only ones who can stop them are all but vanquished. How can one isolated fighter help his fellow citizens from the cold vacuum of space?

insurgent

Decoding the Divergent Series

Hollywood directors have been sneaking messages into movies for a long time. Two of the most talented ever were John Ford and Alfred Hitchcock. The former was obsessed with the taming of the wilderness and the establishment of civilization, framing his themes and character subtexts according to his Catholic worldview. The latter obsessed over guilt, whether caused by deed or thought.

Now why would Hitchcock have Bruno's feet so prominent in the frame?
Now why would Hitchcock have Bruno’s feet so prominent in the frame?

Both directors used visual semeiology to insert subplots and character arcs which contrasted, yet harmonized, with the main plot followed by the casual viewer. They were usually subtle enough that most people were never even aware of the additional narratives taking place in subtext.  And despite the typical socialistic leanings (Ford was a staunch New-Dealer), the subtexts in their films were rarely political in nature–especially compared to current entertainment.

Ethan Edwards, the permanent outcast and vanishing wild man.
Ethan Edwards, the permanent outcast and vanishing wild man.

Film makers today are not nearly as clever or capable, but they are predictably political–and so heavy-handed that most people have little trouble recognizing how Homowood is pushing The Narrative.

There are a couple themes slithering around beneath the surface in the first two films of the Divergent series. It is a little more subtle than the average Narrative Push…enough so that I feel compelled to point it out.

Deep State Apologetics:

(In the world of the Divergent Series, some vaguely-conceived war has caused humanity (at least in Chicago) to segregate according to personality type in order to avoid future conflicts. Yeah, I know. Anyway, the personalities are grouped as follows: Candor [the brutally honest]; Abnegation [the "selfless"]; Amity [the pacifistic flower children]; Erudite [the intellectual/high IQ set]; and Dauntless [the sheepdogs--soldiers and police]. )

divergentfactions

Specifics are in short supply, but the rubes and proles blame the government (controled by Abnegation) for some obscure failure to govern correctly. But Abnegation is a community of selfless, competent administrators who are actually doing a bang-up job and don’t deserve criticism.

Opportunistic manipulators among Erudite are plotting a coup, taking advantage of the proles’ discontent and assuming themselves to be better qualified to lead.

Get the idea? The de facto ruling class is competently herding us through a series of progressive steps toward Utopia, but the ungrateful rubes in Flyover Country are upset about confiscatory taxes; industry-crushing regulations; the invasion through our open borders; massive election fraud; treason from the highest offices; infringement of our inalienable rights, etc. Hence we wrongly resent our betters. Conniving intellectuals are fanning the flames, drawing attention to the habitual idiocy of the ruling class. Presumably these are figureheads in the alternative media, plus a few political rogues like Ron Paul and Neil Gorsuch.

The surprising aspect is that (covertly, anyway), the architects of this series acknowledge the intelligence of their enemies. After all, the most influential critics of the Deep State can figure out that in secure government emails, a “C” stands for “Classified,” and that Congress should read a bill to know what’s in it BEFORE passing it into law. Unfortunately for the likes of Hillary Clinton and Nancy Pelosi, they’ve found themselves in a contest of wits…and are unarmed.

THE TRANSGENDER SUBTEXT:

The world of this series is stiffly organized into factions, according to the personality types listed above. However, certain rare individuals can’t be funneled into rigid categories according to such narrow-minded cisnorms. They are called “divergent”–get it?

butchtris

The soon-to-be amazon superninja and main character, Beatrice, starts out very feminine by today’s standards in the West. But she chooses to join the Dauntless (no doubt she, and the author of the fiction series, are Secret Warrior Queens deep inside their oppressed ids), and soon sheds her dress for Emo pants and vest (sometimes a black wife-beater/muscle shirt). She also changes her too-feminine name to the androgynous “Tris” moniker as she is gradually empowered by combat training. (Well, at least she, unlike the amazon superninja in the latest Star Wars abominations, had to actually train before becoming the Greatest Badass in the Galaxy.) Toward the beginning of the second movie, Insurgent, for no obvious reason, Tris cuts off her hair. The actress already had the masculine frame that is supposedly sexy for modern women, and the butch haircut is the final touch that visually transforms her into a boyish other.

This is not an exhaustive analysis–there is more evidence to examine for those who are interested. The third film (Allegiant) takes a turn into another thematic reinforcement of The Narrative.

But maybe I’m wrong. After all, messages like these are so antithetical to what the cultural svengalis want and believe.

Larsoninthecorner

NASCAR Needs to Allow Speedometers

NASCAR stands for “National Association for Stock Car Auto Racing” and, believe it or not, the drivers once raced cars that were factory-stock. That means, present-day race fans, that the cars driven at NASCAR races were once equipped with speedometers.

This is not the case now, which is rather mystifying, considering that penalties are assessed for speeding on Pit Road. In the Cup Race at Kentucky this weekend just past, Kyle Larson had to start the race at the rear of the grid due to finishing Tech Inspection late. He worked his way through the field during Stage One, only needing to pass two more cars to take the lead…

And then a speeding penalty planted him at the back of the pack yet again, and he had to start over. He finished Second behind the winner, Martin Truex Jr., but one has to wonder if that would have been the case without his mistake on Pit Road.

Truexvictorycircle

It’s an easier mistake to make than it ever has been, and more drivers are making it–ruining their chances for victory week after week. Without a speedometer, the driver has to estimate his actual speed based on the tach reading, and what the spotter tells him over the radio. But every single driver wants to gain, or at least maintain, grid position during pit stops, so they will push their cars as close to the speed limit as possible.

At least, that’s what they would do if they had a means to accurately gauge their speed. Then we’d see more races won or lost due to the collective effort of the respective race teams, instead of being penalized for failing to calculate what they are not allowed to measure.

My Lonely Room – A Review

This book is a prequel to The Vandals. As such, it has inspired me to go back and read it again. And although classified “Y.A.,” I consider My Lonely Room a fine, worthwhile read for men or boys of any age.

The setting is Queens, New York, at the dawn of the rock & roll era. A young outcast lives in partially self-imposed exile due to selfish parents; a sadistic landlady; cliquish kids doing what kids do (only worse, in the big city); and social ineptitude deriving from arrested development.

You don’t have to be Polish, a baby-boomer, or from the Big Apple, to relate to Jimmy Yadenik. Those details merge to form a fascinating backdrop for this tale of a boy becoming a young man, and learning to play the cards he was dealt.

I should clear something up: 1950s street gangs are not to be confused with biker gangs. The latter began as clubs made up of drunken, brawling WWII vets out to have fun and abuse their newly attained civilian freedoms. Later they evolved into something uglier, but that’s another story.

Nor are 1950s street gangs to be confused with later gangs, which were more like fiefdoms in the feudal drug trade, where life is a perpetual nightmare for everyone involved–or even just in proximity.

The gang members of the 1950s were teenagers, mostly. A gang was comprised of kids from the same neighborhood, and was not envisioned as a criminal enterprise by the founders. The members often shared interests (rock & roll, for instance; girls; maybe cars), but what united them was a mutual need for protection. Protection from what? Other kids, mostly.

It’s amazing to me, but a lot of big city folks spend their entire lives in a single neighborhood. It’s been that way for a while. Kids like Jimmy Yadenik didn’t look for trouble; but when they strayed into a different ‘hood, they often found it.

Kids behave like pack animals anywhere, but stack them like sardines in tenaments, and the violence multiplies. Faced with this situation, it’s only natural kids would seek safety in numbers. Or, as the Jets sang in West Side Story:

When you’re a Jet let ‘em do what they can

You got brothers around; you’re a family man.

You’re never alone; you’re never disconnected.

You’re home with your own when company’s expected.

You’re well protected.

Sometimes a gang from the next ‘hood would invade yours. Sometimes there were two gangs in the same ‘hood. This is how turf wars got started.

Also, don’t confuse this subculture with the pampered Baby Boomer generation as a whole. Yes, midwestern James Dean wannabes dressed like thugs and tried to act tough during these years, but their “rebellion” came from petulance. No other generation in history had it so easy; had been given everything on a silver platter (except discipline); or had so little to be angry about. “Rebel without a cause” is an apt description for most of them. Or, as Marlon Brando’s character put it in The Wild One when asked what he was rebelling against: “What have ya got?”

But in the asphalt jungle, teenagers weren’t coddled, and didn’t enjoy lives of largesse. Jimmy Yadenik has a father who never bothered to teach him anything at all, much less how to be a man. The father is absent physically and emotionally. The only worth he recognizes in his son is the labor potential, so Jimmy can contribute to the weekly beer fund and the parties at the Polish Club. Jimmy’s mother is a little more humane, but still a lot more take than give. Case in point: they put Jimmy in a foster home so he wouldn’t be an inconvenience to them. As the story begins, Jimmy has just recently come to live with them again.

Perhaps the saddest part of Jimmy’s story is the way he latches onto some advice from a teacher. She gives him a truly underwhelming sample of generic, non-commital social worker talk, and it motivates him. It’s evidently the most encouragement he’s ever received from any adult in his life.

Not especially charismatic or athletic, how is Jimmy supposed to make friends with angry, messed-up kids from other dysfuntional families at school or in the neighborhood?

He acquires a girlfriend who does most of the heavy lifting for him in Love’s Learning Curve, for one thing. (If only all girlfriends could be so straightforward and accomodating.)

Secondly, he finds brotherhood (of sorts) via some streetwise boys who take him under their wings, and help him along in his journey. (If only all de facto orphans could find this kind of peer support.)

It’s certainly not the best path to manhood a boy could take, but it beats the azimuth set for him by his parents and teachers.

If you were born some time within the last half-century, you will probably find something in My Lonely Room that resonates with you.

Behind the Scenes at Sun Records

At great sacrifice, this transcript of a backroom creative meeting was obtained.

In a smoke-free zone in the bowels of Homowood, Commiefornia, a diverse gathering of creative consultants discusses a potential TV show.

MS BUTCHCUT: So, this series would have a lot going for it. We could provide a glimpse into the Dark Ages (the 1950s), and expose how backwards everything was. Yet at the same time, rock & roll symbolizes this enormous, unstoppable spirit of rebellion–against the borgeois; against materialism; the patriarchy…and it was rising up to challenge societal norms. Of course, it’s an opportunity to tell the story in a different way–highlighting the strong women behind the scenes who never got credit, until now. And we know white people will watch it, because it’s got Elvis.

PUFF TRIGGLY: Did you get my ideas for the series treatment? I printed them and put them on your desk, so…

MS BUTCHCUT: I did get them, and you’re right: vanilla white men have been getting the credit for everything far too long. But I don’t think this is quite the show to highlight the societal contributions of transgender necrophiliacs. We’ve got at least one Strong Female Character in the treatment, who we’ll gradually reveal as the one who  really held Sun Records together and made it work. But we’ve got to be subtle about it, because the rubes have been complaining about Strong Female Characters lately.

DUNNING: Who told them TV is not reality? Ah d-d-d-d-d-they must have hired somebody to screen our shows. Somebody who can see past the beer in their lap. (Laughs.)

KRUGER: Strictly speaking, it’s sort of not likely that they could have noticed what we were doing on their own. For sort of 50 years, they sort of never caught on before now. Most likely, this is, strictly speaking, part of the fake news epidemic that sort of mobilized the Flyover Puritans to start criticizing our effort to be inclusive.

DUNNING:  Ah why d-d-d-don’t we just solve it like we usually do: have the actress playing the secretary show some skin? I mean, she should have big boobs; nice legs–that’s a given. Presto! No complaints about her being the brains of the operation.

PUFF TRIGGLY: Sexist! How dare you!

MS BUTCHCUT: Really, people. It’s the current year. That’s just offensive on so many levels. But certainly: we’ll make her sexual. We’ll show Sam Phillips cheating on his wife with her…

NECKBEARD: But, like, later we’ll have her experiment with lesbianism, right? It’ll be perfect!

MS BUTCHCUT: No. Again, we have to be careful. So ix-nay, at least for the first season.

PUFF TRIGGLY: But that’s not inclusive. That’s not inclusive at all. So…

KRUGER: Exactly. That’s why, strictly speaking, I still say we should sort of have Elvis be gay.

DUNNING: I d-d-d-d-don’t know if we can pull that off.

MS BUTCHCUT: Elvis is a sacred cow. I’m afraid we’re stuck with a white male heterosexual character who’s not a bufoon, a rapist, a murderer, wife-beater, terrorist or criminal. Two such characters, actually–we can’t reinvent Johnny Cash, either. They’re both still too popular in Flyover Country for us to stray too far from that rigid-minded mythos. But at least we can make their fathers reprehensible. Of course their mothers will be wise, moral, and intuitive.

KRUGER: Please tell me we’re not canning my work on Jerry Lee Lewis. I mean, with all their sexual hangups, the rubes couldn’t possibly put him up there on the same sort of pedestal as Presley and Cash.

NECKBEARD: And come on. His cousin was, like, Jimmy Swaggart.

KRUGER: Strictly speaking, Swaggart is sort of the ultimate Religious Right icon. We have a moral imperitive to sort of highlight his hypocrisy. You know how outraged the rubes get over “hypocrisy.” It’s just sort of hanging right there in front of us, sort of begging for us to play that angle to the hilt.

MS BUTCHCUT: Of course Swaggart is fair game. We can never skewer him enough. But we’re going to build that case gradually. At first we’ll concentrate on Lewis’s reprehensible rape culture.

NECKBEARD: Excuse me. Sorry. I’d like to get back to our Strong Female Character. I’ve been, like, developing this scene in my mind: Her and Phillips are in the studio, and she’s fixing something he screwed up. Then this crazed gunman bursts through the door to rob the place. White male heterosexual, of course. In fact, he should make it clear he targeted them because they “play that nigger music.” But the secretary, like, performs this roundhouse kick that knocks the gun out of his hand, and then, like, proceeds to beat the living shit out of him, while Phillips cowers, hiding somewhere.

DUNNING: Ah d-d-d-d-that’s a great scene, but it belongs in, more like, an action-oriented show.

KRUGER: Strictly speaking, shouldn’t we get back to solving the sort of lack of inclusivity?

PUFF TRIGGLY: Exactly. At the very least, one of the characters should at least be gay. So…

MS BUTCHCUT: While I know where you’re coming from, it’s just not that easy. We can’t make Presley or Cash gay. Lewis is too unsympathetic a character, so it can’t be him. Same with Swaggart. Colonel Tom Parker is despicable, so he’s out. You know how the bozos in Flyover Country are fanatic about a rigid view of history where a given narrative should conform to known facts and all that reptillian-brain framing.

NECKBEARD: Maybe, like, we could bring in Little Richard for a few episodes. Show how he was victimized for his lifestyle.

KRUGER: But, sort of more importantly, show him in at least one love scene.

DUNNING: I d-d-d-d-don’t think Little Richard ever recorded for Sun Records.

MS BUTCHCUT:  He didn’t. And again, all that historical accuracy crap is an obsession for the target audience. We won’t be able to slip that into the first season.

KRUGER: So…what you’re sort of saying is…all we can do in the first season is inject one Strong Female Character; show how nuclear families was oppression of superior women by inferior men; show some vanilla adultery by Phillips; some vanilla fornication by Lewis; a little bit of racism here and there; and strictly speaking, that’s sort of it?

MS BUTCHCUT: Well, I’m afraid so, yes. I mean, aside from, you know, a bunch of dramatized biographical plot points for the rubes.

PUFF TRIGGLY: But…but…but…sympathetic gay characters!

 

Red-Blooded American Men Examine Pop-Culture and the World