Attention Male Pigs: Just Rape Someone So We Can Crucify You Already

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In a world where sexual assault is such a hot commodity, and victimhood a badge of pride to be respected, it is no surprise that women with long-harbored rage would be blowing their Mt. Vesuvius tops to cover the rest of us in ash.

This is now a culture where facts are decided ahead of time, and evidence cherry-picked on the fly. There is a tornado of harassment with allegations circulating the internet from everyone to Hollywood elites, to politicians, to local business owners.  Accusations are indictments, and in this wave, the acts of Weinstein are now equal to Franken.  100+ victims are now comparable to a dumb and shameful photo on a USO tour. 

Can we take a breath, or find the nearest potted plant.

Of course, it would be horrible to imply that consent is something to play fast and loose with. Unwanted sexual advancement placed upon another person is despicable. Status and power carry…..something…

While consent should never be taken for granted in the bedroom, there seems to be a double standard when it comes to recollection outside of the sheets. In one of the more high profile cases, a Louis CK accuser has revoked consent years after the fact. When recalling an incident where CK asked to masturbate in front of her, the anonymous woman has said on record that she “went along with his request, but later questioned his behavior.”

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Another case of regret being apparently equivalent to rape is the infamous case of the Mattress Girl, the Columbia University student who accused a male peer of anally raping her. She was then found to have exchanged texts with him prior to the incident begging him for anal sex. In addition, there have even been widespread reports of her texting him flirtatiously even after the fact. Her case has been proven false, and the man cleared of all wrongdoing with the university settling out of court with his family. The social stigma, of course, will probably follow him for the rest of his life. She, however, is often still celebrated as a hero to this day because of her “artistic” interpretation of self-proclaimed victimhood.

“In a matter of hours I was tried, convicted and sentenced for something I did not do.” – Zach Ward (via News & Observer)

But here is the problem with online accusations: they stick. They always stick. Even without any form of real evidence or due process. In my home town, a man named Zach Ward who owned a comedy club woke up one day to an old fling from years prior accusing him in graphic detail of sexual assault. There were no witnesses, no proof, nothing damning other than her word against his. There was no approach to the police at the time of the incident nor at any point afterward. The result though was him being forced to step down from his business that he built from nothing, and to sell the property in haste at an enormous loss in value. No one in the community for one second thought to give him a fair shake. He maintained his innocence and provided a counter story – was labelled a pig for denying her statement. The accuser has seen an incredible resurgence in her prominence within the community, and the man who led the charge to believe her without any semblance of a question has seen himself become a hero of the people. Well, to everyone but Zach Ward.

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Journalist Emily Lindin came under fire for posting a decidedly brash statement on Twitter

So where do we go from here? It appears that we are actively trying to erase all of the social progression achieved from the “sexual revolution” started in the 60s, which seemed to have snowballed into something that approached sexual equality until just recently. Women were free to enjoy some level of promiscuity without the judgment of yesteryear. It’s hard to imagine many men having a problem with this development either. But it seems that society has screeched to a halt at a glaring red light – and the crossroads we face is, as Douglas Murray so eloquently puts it, a very complicated one. Men are afraid of vengeful women; women are afraid of vicious men. Moreover, everyone seems to be afraid to speak their minds, because those who do get tackled in some way. In particular, anyone with conservative thoughts.

One thing that has become more obvious over time is that people on the far left, intersectional, trigger-happy political spectrum continuously speak out of both sides of their mouths. They have pushed a narrative of “hate speech” not being free speech, although the definition of hate speech seems to constantly change. However, when this idea is turned onto them, as it was when Facebook started banning comments from women advocating violence against men, it is met with outrage, condemnation, and accusations of sexism against the social media behemoth. “It’s just a joke to say ‘Kill all men,’” they said! Meanwhile, right-wingers have been banned from Twitter and the like for making far less offensive jokes than that.

Although free speech is a fundamental constitutional right, Facebook is indeed a private company, and is completely within their rights to remove anything they feel is not in line with their terms and conditions. There is also an argument for the advocacy of violence not falling under free speech due to Supreme Court precedents. For some reason this leaves me with the impression that the new, regressive version of the left tends to meet most things with negativity.

And with that in mind, is it any wonder that they are closing both their minds and their legs?

Your Friend,

Owen

 

Golovkin Vs. Canelo

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Real boxing Returns September 17 with Canelo Alvarez Vs. Gennady Golovkin. This fight is, in my opinion, the best matchup of skill since Nonito Donaire Vs. Guillermo Rigondeaux, that said it will not be a chess match. I like Golovkin, and I that is where my money is. The -170 favorite from Kazakhstan has been on a rampage ever since coming onto the American scene with his 2012 destruction of Grzegorz Proksa. This is the best way to kick off the post-Mayweather era, with the best fighting the best. If you’re interested, enjoy Stephen A. Smith’s fuck boy, Max Kellerman, interview the two champs, while former great, Roy Jones Jr. moderates in some dope ass jeans from the sale rack at Marshalls.

Final note, Canelo still refusing to speak English, compared with GGG, who 2 years ago only knew how to say “I like fight” makes Trump’s wall sound all the more imminent.

 

 

 

Best Interview I have found about what it is like to fight Golovkin from Martin Murray,.

 

Waking Up In Sarajevo

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It was pouring as I stumbled back, drunk and exhausted, towards Nedjarići. The rain didn’t seem to stop the stray dogs. They were having their usual orgy, defiling the construction site I hadn’t seen operating since I had been in Sarajevo. Who will it house? The youth were leaving, and the siege generation wasn’t getting any better. Maybe it was financed on a whim. I doubt it matters all that much whether it fails or succeeds, as long as the oil money flows in. None of this had much effect on my mood. The kiosk was still open, and after the usual run around with the attendant, Haris, who functioned with war torn clubs for hands, the chains were removed from the beer fridge.

The next morning I woke up to Sabina’s phones alarm. Apparently, she set it with the Muezzin which echoed as I tripped over the empties, ending any idea of leaving without the awkward morning goodbyes. Neither she nor I wanted anyone else in our group to know we were fucking. I told her my bad, as I closed the door.

It was rare to come back to my room without any beer and if didn’t settle I would vomit. So, I went about the dumb drag down to the nearest shop to refuel. Thankfully, departure was being held up by the two Turkish girls. It would be a long ride to Banja Luka. I didn’t need to come down yet.

Passing through the smoke filled lobby people were gathered around watching a failed coup, I guess there would be none of that Gülen shit in Turkey for the time being. At the checkout desk waited your typical Saudi nuclear family; a man, his three wives, and their 12 kids. The little boys were all wearing Messi jerseys, and the little girls donning their cute hijabi training wheels, yet to go full beekeeper and pick up the burqa.

Outside, the fog lingered above the mortar marked edifices of yesteryear’s Yugoslavia. The uniformly block buildings were decorated by the ornaments of laundry and leaking bullet holes that oozed streaks like running mascara. Because of both the weekend and the weather, few from the neighborhood ventured out.

Edin, a teenaged corn vendor, was unpacking his stand from the trunk of his grandfather’s Yugo. It appeared today he would be without his usual competition; a profusely bearded Islamist caricature whose judging gaze I tended to welcome in my intoxication.

I had heard locals talk about the recent reversion back to faith. A culture war was brewing between secular Bosniaks who identified as Muslim but didn’t give a shit about strict adherence, against the Islamist who saw doctrine as the end- all be- all. What had been taboo expressions of faith, such as the hijab, were now commonplace, even amongst the youth. The former drunks were now sober and bearded, donning halal skullcaps and Capri pants in the way of the prophet.

The locals might tell you this came from their new Arab neighbors. The ones from the gulf that financed the mujahideen during the war; Saudi Salafist that built mega mosques and Qatari playboys bathed in cologne. The zealous among them, the true believers, would often be linked to a collection of black burqaed ghosts, shadowing their Versace dressed master. I wondered what the city seemed to them through the slits, with its bare skin ads and alcohol. How did they see the unaccompanied women, the buxom Bosnians with their bouncy boobs of a bread diet? Or was this part of the plan? A foothold in the heathen continent they would eventually bring to Allah. I saw a platoon of those suffocated women leaving Victoria Secret, their bags presumably full of lingerie, submitting their instincts into the confines of Sharia. Bin Laden had a bunch of porn with him when he was shot by Seal Team Six; perhaps he could have shed light on the paradox.

After the usual dance at the kiosk, I purchased five 18 oz. beers that would last me the ride up to Banja Luka.

From there I decided on corn for breakfast. Edin had noticed his corner competition had failed to show up. I joked that maybe he had gone to Syria, and after some brief consideration the young vendor concluded, “Yeah maybe, but someone just replace him.”

I stumbled back thinking how beautifully the fog crowned this dreary city.

 

William Onyeabor (29 March 1946 – 16 January 2017)

The man named William Onyeaber – or more simply – The J.D. Salinger of Nigerian Afro-Funk has died. After recording a series of eight original albums between 1977-1985 the celebrated and influential musician went on to become a recluse. This hiding is attributed to his becoming a born-again Christian, and thus distancing himself from his previous work.

In his day many rumors followed, rumors that he went to film school in Russia, or that he had studied law at Harvard. What is known is that he had somehow managed enough money to record and produce his albums in a secretive factory on the outskirts of Enugu. What is also know is that Onyeabor was not to be fucked with, and he was not to be tried on this point. (See Documentary Below)

Following this conversion, the Nigerian icon almost entirely refused to talk publicly about his music, which although profoundly influential, he never performed live. In one of the only accounts that remain of the man, Onyeabor was described as spending much of his final years around the television watching sermons delivered by popular Nigerian televangelist T.B. Joshua. To watch Joshua’s preaching gives insight into the fanatical religious atmosphere of Enugu where locals are known to ask one another “Are you born again?”.

As is true of all great legends Onyeabor intrigues by both the known and the unknown, may he rest in funk.

Since I find the idea of describing music entirely stupid, here is a link below. Its worth your time.

And here is a documentary on Onyearbor.

Cuban Refugee Brutally Assualts Rabbi

In a fight that should have never been made, on a card that warranted mockery, Cuban Refugee Erislandy Lara, mocked and brutalized Brooklyn Rabbi Yuri Foreman. Lara to his credit, but mostly to his demise, is an incredible boxer. He so skilled at boxing, that in a pay for play blood sport, he has twice been screwed due to his style. In a sense Cubans dance and don’t go to war. And who can blame them, people die in war, while skilled salsaing men often go home with buxom beauties.

Build up to this fight had unanimous declared the card raw sewage. Here is ESPN’s top boxing commentators thoughts on the card

The knock out occurred at 1:47 of the forth round on via a beautiful uppercut delivered by Lara. Foreman attempted valiantly to stand but the fight was waved off.

After the fight Foreman, who has spent the past 6 years of his life training to become a Rabbi had this to say “Of course I’m disappointed, but this is boxing, I got caught with a perfect punch and that’s what happens. I tried very hard to shake it off, but he got me.”

Lara on the other side made attempts to call out fighters across the world. “I just want to fight the best in the world, I’m tired of mentioning names, they know who they are: Andrade,  Golovkin, Canelo , the best. We want to fight the best.”

This the struggle for Cuban fighters, their style is not crowd pleasing and they have yet gain the cultural backing necessary to warrant major Pay Per View fights. Lara, who in my opinion has already beaten Canelo is forced to constantly cry out for fights that will likely never happen.

Funniest Tweets of the night.

Philly’s Favorite Neo Nazi

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In what is perhaps the most interesting story in the history of baseball, the Philadelphia Phillies have recently fired their ballparks beloved pistachio girl, Emily Youcis. The cheerful vendor had gained a cult following over her 6 years of employment at the stadium, most notably for the comedic way in which she marketed her snacks. At the time of her termination, the aspiring animator was also a known participant in the cities local art scene, noted for her work as both a painter and a vocalist in a screamo band.

Beyond her less than accommodating views regarding non-white individuals (Jews Included), Youcis gives off the typical vibe of a struggling artist. The type of person possibly consumed by student loans, who wouldn’t appear out of place at Occupy Wall St. rally, or going door to door for Bernie Sanders. But these assumptions would be false, as a recent transformation in Youcis’s outlook has since aligned her with an entirely different type of crowd.

As she recounts it this change occurred after recently consuming the metaphorical “Red Pill” of the Alt-Right, which evoked an almost spiritual moment of awakening. Getting “pilled” as they put it, seems to be a sort of Neo-Fascistic awakening, inspired by ones profound connection to white European identitarianism at the heart of the white nationalist movement led by Richard Spencer. Youcis, for her part, is much more open about her more deplorable views, forgoing any attempt to veil her Neo-Nazi sympathies. In a variety of interviews available on youtube she makes no mistake with regards to voicing her concern over the “JQ,” or Jewish Question, while making the usual calls for a white ethnostate which can only be achieved through ethnic cleansing. This a stark contrast in comparison to Spencer who seems intent to describe his vision for the Alt Right as merely another just another form of identity politics, albeit this time for “White Americans of European decent.”

Despite her otherwise conventional Neo-Nazi views, Youcis is emblematic of the new face one should now expect from the white supremacist movement. A rebranding of sorts away from the American History X archetype, into a new hipster, styled future that hopes Make Hate Great Again.

(Emily Youcis participating at the infamous NPI conference in Washington DC.)

A final observation about the NPI Conference:

To all you lunatics and SJWS on the left,

Please understand that the behavior demonstrated in the video above, and other acts like it, only serve to fuel support for movements such as the Alt Right. It was utterly disgusting to observe the lack of ideological engagement against Emily Youcis and her fellow White Identitarians. Aside from just the nonsensical temper tantrums on college campuses, the left has gotten a total pass with regards to real violence against those they disagree with. More disgustingly this violence and censorship has been perpetrated against many who would otherwise find far more ideological commonality with Leftists than they ever would share with the Alt Right fringe.

All the best,

Breck

Black Lives Matter

A lot has been made of the Black Lives Matter movement by prominent media outlets. Despite this coverage I still remain confused about what their agenda seems to be, and what goals they wish to accomplish. At Oxford Union, the most prominent figures of this leaderless organization were invited to speak on this issue. I invite you to discern what about this group is either convincing or compelling, and more importantly where is this movement is heading, and what they want to accomplish. I for the life of me have not be able too achieve this goal, but maybe there is someone better suited.

Also if you want to turn this into a drinking game, drink according to the following guidelines.

  1. A panelist says “White Supremacy”.
  2. Reference to slavery.
  3. A wheel-chaired black man with dreadlocks appears at the bottom of your screen, thus reinforcing submission to the earned elitism we must afford all universities and academics. And if you have any problem with this virtue signaling, please check your privileged you fucking bigot.
  4. A standing ovation occurs for an indiscernible point made by one of the panelist.
  5. Any negative reference towards straight, white men.
  6. Any time you see an audience member or panelist appear punchable.
  7. Any time you feel that you are witnessing an echo chamber. (Link to entire conversation)
  8. Drink any time you consider how little statistical evidence is needed to speak at Oxford.
  9. Any time you hear someone describing what is supposed to be concrete evidence of systemic racism in 2017, but, you are still confused, or unconvinced.
  10. Any time you see the last person on earth you would want to be trapped in an elevator with. This lady will be wearing a leather jacket without her arms in the sleeves while gesticulating in a way that highlights a necklace which reassures you this is someone who should be taken seriously.
  11. Any time you think to yourself, “Maybe I could go to Oxford” then realize that the answer is “Nah” and that you’re probably not dumb enough. This is especially true for anyone who has held a proper job. Former and current job holders will know how incredibly shaming such a pathetic question about Zayn Malik preforming at an Afro Caribbean Festival would appear around their fellow laborers and would save themselves from the humiliation. This should be a double drink as far as I’m concerned as his pretentiousness also scores on punchability (Rule 6), which should be obvious upon realizing his complaint revolved around a Pakistani Brit, highlighting how ready these leftist are to put everything on scale with regard to identity. Also at this time take another shot if you if you want to watch the insanity that has plagued the left eat itself.

Suicide Round

  1. Realize that a total word salad can evoke applause.
  2. Drink again if you are either confused about the progressive agenda, or you are white and you realize you are no longer welcome (Unless you are trans, handicapped, or have posted several Ta Neshi Coates articles on your Facebook).
  3. Vomit upon realizing that Black Lives Matter is goalless organization, hellbent on racial division.

Fight Of The Year 2016

After a series of arrestable offenses in the fights build up Whyte and Chisora finally met for a sanctioned brawl. I gave this fight the slight edge for FOTY due to two reasons, first the insanity involved in prefight build up, and two the level of clean blows traded at heavyweight. That said, this takes nothing away from Salido Vs. Vargas, which arguably accomplished the impossible in satisfying the most unquenchable of expectations.

 

 

FOTY runner up: Orlando Salido Vs. Francisco Vargas.

Jermall Charlo Vs. Julian Williams

Saturday’s fight between Jermall Charlo and Julian Williams was built as a highly competitive matchup between two competitors primed to challenge for supremacy among the pseudo division currently dominated by Canelo Alvarez. As the bookmakers had it Williams was a slight favorite, and the late money followed this trend. The fight however, did not follow suite, with Williams being dramatically KO’ed in an otherwise competitive contest. One should think of Amir Khan, when imagining the seamless shift between awe-inspiring combinations and utter vulnerability.

As is typical of most great match-ups, Charlo and Williams demonstrated a palpable level mutual disdain for each other. Observers of online trash talk will know that Williams has gained a reputation in the division for consistently sniping his fellow 154 lbs. travelers. This tactic can be highly effective, particularly for a fighter such as Williams, who are forced to take lead in their own branding. What is also clear is that Williams slights were greatly effective in penetrating Charlo’s psyche, to the point they continued to linger even after the match had concluded. Eventually seen by Charlo’s refusal to shake Williams hand after winning via a brutal and beautiful 5th round KO.

This lack of sportsmanship was not missed by the crowd, whom instinctively returned a chorus of boos that initially seemed to energize the flexing Charlo as he made his way to each corner of the ring yelling from the ropes “Whose the fuckin’ champ now”. Watching from my home it was so refreshing to witness boxer double down on villainy, and cherish the role of heel that is utterly missing in the post Mayweather era.

But all of this was ruined the moment he started to walk it back with Jim Gray.

It is my opinion that Charlo, and fighters of his ilk, should have never apologize; There can only be so many happy go lucky Manny Pacquiaos in a generation. I say this because apologies, particularly when they are insincere, or uttered from a guy whose chest tattoo reads “Lions Only”, are in essence a pathetic acquiesce to the increasingly stupid fan mentality that athletes owe viewers some patronizing attempt at civility.

At what point are these assholes going to realize they are not tuned into to watch Boutros Boutros-Ghali make some call for peace at the UN. For those who are still confused please consider that you a literally watching two shirtless gladiators willfully attempt destroy one another. And if you still don’t get it please kindly shut your fucking mouths because you really don’t get it. You assholes are the reason Charlo felt obligated to apologize. A point that anyone who watched this past election cycle should know to be tiresome and invalid. When they say ‘You made us upset’ its only sensible to respond with ‘Fuck You’. Fans, and people more generally want villains. They need someone to hate, no matter how reluctant they are to admit it. In boxing the clearest demonstration of profit from villainy is seen through the career of Mayweather who has generated more money at the cost of remarkably little damage. People tune in for the guy who gives a middle finger when he is called to apologize, not the blubbering beta male that hires a PR team and that holds a press conference to explain away the reason he fucked his secretary.

(On a side note, just look what these assholes did to Tiger Woods)

Charlo may have missed his opportunity to double down, but that’s okay. Hopefully he has recognized the crowds reaction to his apologetic attempts as insincere, and will take them from now on as a call towards weakness. From now on Charlo, double down, and never, ever, apologize.

And if you need a point of reference I recommend you follow the example of the Iron Sheik.

Breaking News: A Guy Who Fights People For A Living Is Not All That Civil

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When Dereck Chisora threw a table at Dillian Whyte it was about all that one should have exspected from the self-styled Del Boy. Chisora is nuts, hes proven he’s nuts, and to some degree his being nuts is why he is still getting high profile fights his match-up on Saturday.

This match-up pits the consistently entertaining, yet unsatisfied Chisora against the younger and slightly favored Whyte for WBC International heavyweight title. Chisora to his credit has been in with the elite of the Heavyweight division (Vitali Klitschko, David Haye, Tyson Fury, Kubat Pulev) although in every instance fallen slightly short.

Whyte is still gunning for a rematch against Anthony Joshua, who also fights on Saturday against heavy underdog Eric Molina.

I see it as an even fight that should be interesting in the event that it reaches the later rounds. Should this happen Chisora could potentially have an advantage in that Whyte has never gone beyond the 10th round, which coincidentally was in his last fight.

Prediction/Wishful Thinking: Chisora by late KO.

All said here is the press conference chaos. I recommend watching until the end to enjoy the hilarity of a bookish Brit calmly reasons with Chisora that there was nothing to worry about, they would be able to fight each other tomorrow.

 It should also be known that this was not the first time Chisora lost his shit at a press conference. 

“I’m gonna shoot David Haye. He fuckin’ glassed me.”

Dereck Chisora Vs. David Haye