Tuesday, 4 February 2014

Framing


Insomnia is a bit of a headwreck ken. It’s all fucken bangers and mash to the brain, sticky senses, your body is oh so very tired, but them thoughts in your brain are zipping along like drunken motorists on a high speed motorway. Shit ken. Yous can’t stop thinking, can’t stop breaking down every little minute detail like the little aspergery fucktard that you are. Leaves a cunt with not much in terms of options does it tae fuck, cadaverous eyes, sticky, flaky skin, and bags under the eyes that look like real fucken scumbo cut mahself and listen to pedo music eyeliner. Yous look like a right piece of work at the end of the day. Which means I got me watching the Super Bowl, just for the fun, a bit of de craic en aw. I mean, sure to hell it was dull like, but then that commercial came on. You know the one. The one with the lads selling yous sugar and water and having the American national anthem being sung in different languages, different voices en aw. This be interesting lads. Predictably enough, the aul twitter was swamped with lads blabbing on about multiculturalism and evil liberal fucktards and all of that nonsense.

Yous all took the bait, hook line and sinker en aw.

One of the things I’ve been seeing more and more in the media, particularly Irish television and newspapers, is to get some fiend and make him into a sort of mystical Goldstein kind of figure in order to grounge up some good ratings on the telly. A show, a debate banausic to the point of tedium, droll talkers parroting the other person, with some minor, epsilon sized point in difference. Everyone sits in a pool of wank and then switches over to the Bruce Willis film. So what do these lads do? They drag up a conservative to add “spice” to the tv debate. But of course, we don’t really like the idea of the well to do, sensible lad with his head screwed on properly, ooohhh no. We want the delinquent, the debased, and the fuckwit who believes the universe is fifty years old and that Grandad Joe was blown up by de Jews. As he tries and debates passionately, a narcissistic, eternally solipsistic group of boob tubers toss their popcorn back and congratulate themselves for a bloody good job well done, talking to others like them the next day. Politics is my hobby they say! And so the sad, sorry circle continues>>>>. So they say.
Here’s the thing right. There’s a frame, a marketing frame, a news based frame, The Cathedral, call it what you will. You are playing into their frame, yous are as I said, hook line and sinker going for it. You are the bogey man they talk about at dinner time. All this stuff recently with Return of Kings and articles on eating disorders and lassies that look like pixies with the short hair en aw, that’s all it is. Perpetuating the evil man, the fuck, the tool, the divider upper of society.  You will never win playing into their frame. That is what MRA’s do not understand. They are framing it and the MRAs, vivaciously, are diving into it, recklessly, careening into the abyss of useful idiots, as has been done in history so many times. Please pass this law so I can see my kid on Tuesdays! And so on and on and on it goes.

So what we do, is that we create the frame, we turn the game on its head, a full 360. We have to do it so that they are playing into our little sphere, playing up to us. Of course, it both helps that what we are saying and doing is antifragile, not to mention that when the idiot Baptist Church member or John Waters or whoever is just fun and games, a 30 year old man with game, money and a STEM job, or even worse, woman, minority etc, is in your ballpark, then the game gets serious. That’s going to be when the real emotional acrobats are going to begin, with the media, the writers, the data and the p values. So if they invite you for a debate, don’t fucken do it. Say something and let them slobber all over you. Don’t let them turn you into that bad guy who doesn’t know what the hell he’s talking about. Keep your cool lads, keep your cool.

This is why Tuthmosis’s articles have gone viral. They haven’t been done debating other people, and they haven’t been done in a way that you can write them off as mentally unbalanced, (men lyke rape LOL), you, the mangina, simply cannot write them off as the stream of consciousness coming out of a deranged man’s skull. Add to the fact that Return of Kings has been written in a language set to appeal to the Tl;DR lads (not that this is a bad thing by any means mind you, I mean, who the fuck reads Moldbug?) and bingo, yous are on the money. It’s so simple yet so obvious. Write like a celebrity magazine.
We don’t debate them on their grounds; we don’t fall into their frame. We write our own stuff and set it up on our lines. We keep away from the nerdy language, even if it is fun to use. We write like we’re designing a maths proof. Cold, calculated, aimed at the fragile egos of the male feminist. If they try and come after us with slander or hitpieces, we reply back rationally, coldly, and make them look like fools.

The second issue a lad has is to do with entertainment, but that, as they say, is another story.

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