News Roundup

Stuff I noticed over the past week or so:

Rome is blanketed in putrid smoke and residents are told to stay indoors.  I’m surprised anyone noticed.

Nigella does post-Christmas recipes.  Amazingly, some of them look quite tasty (unlike her usual offerings, which make me gag).

Company figurehead caught beating up his pregnant girlfriendAustralia:  ’nuff said.

The I.R.S. is being gutted by budget cutsGood.  All the more reason to eliminate the corporate- and income taxes and replace them with an end-user (national sales) tax.

Nearly one in five men fantasize about having sex with a robotIf the feministicals continue with their nonsense, expect this number to increase.

And finally:

Artificial steak tastes 70% like the real thing, and will cost about $60Make them mandatory for vegans, and serve them right.  I, however, will just stick with something like this:  

And now, if you’ll excuse me…

Wait A Minute

Ummmmm about my post of yesterday, I see this related factoid:

The number of old people being diagnosed with sexually transmitted infections is at an all-time high, figures have revealed.
Even people over the age of 90 are being treated for the illnesses, with dating apps, better health and drugs such as Viagra keeping them sexually active for longer.
Syphillis, one of the less common infections, was three times as common among over-65s last year as in the year before.
Meanwhile the number of people in the same age group contracting gonorrhoea more than doubled and chlamydia cases increased by 49 per cent.
Other infections included in the figures were genital herpes, which increased by 36 per cent, and genital warts.

Fucking Baby Boomers [sic].  The problem, and I speak as a Baby Boomer myself, is that when we were bonking like bunnies back in the late 60s and early 70s, everything was curable with a couple of penicillin jabs.  Now:  not so much.

That’s not an excuse for the above statistics, of course;  it’s just an explanation.  We Of That Generation were always a bunch of irresponsible idiots, and there’s no reason to think that we’d be any different in our jeans-wearing, grey-ponytailed dotage.  As if I didn’t have enough to worry about already;  now I can also look forward to a green, warty dick.  How lovely.

I think I’ll just go back to bed and pull the covers over my head.

The Old In-And-Out

…and I don’t mean the California-based greaseburger chain, either.  Apparently, we Westerners aren’t doing enough bonking, and according to the New York Post, this means The End Of Civilization As We Know It.

This should be a golden age for sex — if not the swinging-from-the-chandelier kind, then at least the regular, reliable fun type. The economy is booming, and America, and the world, are safer than ever. Young people can find willing mates just by swiping on their phones.
It’s a cushy, luxurious time. So why aren’t we naked and rolling around in bed to celebrate?

As always, I’m going to start off by asking the usual questions:  how do we know that people are having less sex — given that when asked about their sex lives, most people lie like Clintons anyway — and if we are making fewer beasts-with-two-backs, so what?

But let’s grant the writer’s hypothesis as truthful, and explore the issue.

The the Usual Suspects can be trotted out:  Internet porn, Netflix, Tinder, Fecesbook followings, constant checking of phones et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.  In other words, Westerners are finding things to do with their spare time other than to have sex.  There may be some truth to all of this:  Chinese peasants seem to have no problem procreating (within State-mandated limits, of course), nor do Nigerian tribesmen or Indian farmers.  In fact, go to any Third World area where there is no electricity and people are breeding like rabbits.  But as the article later suggests, it’s not all about reproduction:

A sexless society is a dying one, and not only for the obvious reason that sex produces babies to replenish the population.
Sex serves as a bonding agent between people in relationships, and when they stop having it, or have it a lot less, that affects the kind of connections they are forming. That loss of intimacy is a big problem.

Here’s my theory about all this.  It’s not one thing that’s causing this problem, it’s a multitude of things, and the arrival of mass entertainment as explained above is just one of them.

The danger to (Western) civilization is not a lack of shagging, but said civilization’s decades-long undermining by academia and other counter-culture hippies.  This is coupled with the wholesale immigration of hordes of people who (if the population growth stats are to be believed) do not have a no-bonking issue — rather, the reverse — but who have few if any ties to said Western civilization.  So the culture is being undermined, and replaced with one that is more, shall we say, primitive.  (Go on: challenge  that statement:  I dare you.)  In a hundred years’ time, when all vestiges of Anglo-Saxon / Judeo-Christian culture have disappeared and the United States looks and behaves more like, well, Central America, there will be no articles written about how sex is disappearing, I guarantee you.

As for the “sex-as-bonding” hypothesis, when we as a society have an easy-come-easy-go [sic] attitude towards relationships (including marriage, through no-fault divorce), commitment does not and cannot take place with only sex as the bonding agent.  Here’s where I can easily point a finger at today’s hook-up culture, made all the easier by applications such as Tinder;  if sex is seen as pure recreation long before a couple is married, its value as a bonding agent has been irreparably undermined.

Another problem:  find me a young married couple today (not living on a farm) where only one of the couple is working.  I’ll save you the trouble:  you won’t.  The plain fact is that even without the feministical Career-Girl Have-It-All-Baby influence, it is no longer easy, or even possible, to have a single wage-earner support a family — and I’m not talking about wealthy Wall Street financiers’ families (who typically don’t have large families anyway);  I’m talking about ordinary folk, to whom having more than one or two children means financial catastrophe unless both partners are working (and sometimes, even then).  When both partners are working their asses off, and have easy access to entertainment through their cell phones, it’s no great leap to understand why sex takes a back seat.  Add to that the fact that when a couple does finally have young children and / or babies, sex falls off a cliff, as any fule kno.

Let’s also address the other great issue:  people aren’t going to want to procreate (which is the primal instinct which drives the desire for sex) when the future is unknown, or uncertain.  I defy you again to find me any group of young people who have not experienced a layoff, or a company shutting down or being merged out of existence, or having a career suddenly disappear when their function is replaced by automation or foreign-based workers.  Once again, I’ll save you the trouble:  you won’t, because everyone under the age of forty has had one of the above happen to them, and probably more than once withal.

I also know that the Welfare State makes it easy for single parents to have multiple children, but I would argue that the Welfare State is not a feature of Western civilization, even though that’s where it’s most often found.  (Imagine, for example, the Founding Fathers seeing some modern urban ghetto, and their likely reaction upon learning how that lifestyle is subsidized, and you’ll get my point.)

I have no solution to this because as far as I can see, there is none.  At best, if a solution does exist, it’s going to be a.) incredibly difficult and time-consuming to implement, and b.) so unpopular (for a variety of reasons) that its chances of success are infinitesimally small.

I have no idea, for example, how to lower the cost of living to, say, 1950s-era levels where a family of four can live in a reasonably-modest dwelling, own one or two inexpensive cars, have enough to eat, and afford to give the kids a decent education — all on one salary, at a stable place of employment.  In order to get there, we’d have to make drastic changes to our national way of life, changes that I’m pretty sure that nobody would want to make.  I also have no clue how to instill the values of long-term commitment (from, say the early 1900s) into a generation which would resist that change mightily.  Those kinds of changes might make common sense if the goal were to improve our current society’s laissez-faire / “whatever”  attitude to, well, just about everything, but I just don’t see the Me-me-me Generation wanting to turn back the clock.  Good grief, most of them can’t tell time on a dial clock anyway, so what are the chances?

But should we somehow reach that state, I can guarantee that everyone would be having sex, and a lot of it.

The generation which produced the Baby Boom is all the historical evidence I need.

NFC Whatsoever

Here we go again.  In this, Chapter Eleventy-Eleven of my rants about grooming comes a fresh atrocity.  At a stupid awards show [some redundancy]  in Britishland recently, we were greeted by the following appearances.

Of course, Carol Vorderman looked lovely, as always:

…as did perennial hottie Nicola Roberts:

Then we have this totty, who was clearly in the back of the “Class” handout line:

But mostly, it seems, the other ladies got the picture (names, mostly, are irrelevant from here on):

Her date, on the other hand, looked like this:

Are you kidding me?  A formal affair, but without a tie and no socks?  Brace yourselves, folks, because it gets worse.  Much worse, because the “she lovely, he unspeakable” trend is going to continue.

For an afternoon garden party, his outfit might do (apart from the “dress shoes but no socks” thing, again), but for a formal evening occasion?

Then there’s this moron:

Ummm… light-brown shoes with a dark-blue suit, in the evening?  (Although he does get some kudos for the belt-shoes match, which seems to be all but forgotten nowadays.) But he’s positively sartorial compared to these three twits:

  
A shiny light-blue suit, a suit of menstrual-red hue (neither with socks), along with a snot-green outfit (with a collarless shirt, and We Will Not Discuss The Shoes)… I bet their mothers are all very proud of them.  

It gets worse.  Try this pimp outfit:

Now we’re reduced to wearing our bedroom slippers to formal occasions, are we?

The parade of foulness goes on and on, but nothing — repeat nothing — can prepare us for Simon Cowell’s appearance at this glittering occasion:

And lest you think that I took that pic from somewhere else, herewith the proof that I didn’t:

It’s not enough that some day (during the reign of World-Emperor Kim), Cowell will be tried and executed for Crimes Against Music, without having Terminal Fashion Rudeness added to the charges.  I don’t care how much money he has, he’ll always be a bloody peasant.

I’m sick of it, this ongoing display of No Fucking Class (see title for acronym).  It’s high time that these events instituted a dress code, and enforced it.  If people like the ones below got the memo (more or less), there’s no excuse for dressing like utter boors and slobs.

(I know, Robbie Williams needs a suit that’s a size or two larger, but he’s a former pop idol, so we make allowances, yes?)

And of course, Holly Willough-Boobies looked lovely, as always:

…although she needs to find another hair stylist.

I’m never going to quit banging on about this stuff, because it just gets up my nose.  All  the above men can afford to have tailored suits made — and proper suits for formal occasions, especially — which makes their slobbery all the less excusable.  And women need to stop enabling this behavior, and must refuse to go out with them dressed like that.

And now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to stick pins into that Simon Cowell doll.

Seriously?

Here’s an interesting news snippet:

Antifa expands its hit list as political violence escalates

Well, well, well.  I wonder just how far Pantifa will go to expand their little “hit list”.  And when you’ve lost Stephen Colbert

I mean, I’m not as well-known as Tucker Carlson, but I am kinda known around the place thanks to my various blogs over the years — and quite frankly, when it comes to being conservative, I make ol’ Tucker look like an old-school liberal Democrat.  If this crowd is all about Smash Racism, I did write Let Africa Sink, after all (not that I think the essay is racist, but then again, it’s exponentially more controversial than anything Tucker has ever said).  So could I make the Pantifa Expanded Hit List in the future?  This might get interesting.

And now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to the range.

Whatever

Apparently, a manufacturer of dog-piss beer is having trouble with a manufacturer of cat-piss beer.  Trust me:  this is a fight in which I have absolutely zero dog.  Frankly, if both “brewers” disappeared off the face of the planet, we’d all be better off.

I actually read the above article yesterday afternoon having just come from a very convivial lunch with Longtime Reader Zane H., said lunch including the following:

…and only the day before that I’d been chatting with Mr. FM, planning my next visit to FM Castle and assorted villainy Over There, to include lots of this:

…not to mention more and yet more of this:

  

So I think you can begin to discern the depth of my disinterest in the spat between MillerCoors and Pabst…