Feminism as intrasexual competition is putting our liberal values at risk.
I’d be a dog, a monkey, or a bear, or anything but that vain animal who is so proud of being rational.
Frankfurt is simply not a place where you can explore fascism and call it art. You may think that you are being cute and avant-garde, but we find you to be crypto without the currency to back it up.
This feminist omniscience about what is appropriate for individual women betrays a grandiose conceit that cares nothing for the well-being of women and everything for an ideology.
In coded language, clipped and hushed tones, when nobody is around, we talk about him.
A number of ritualistic components came together within this release, most notably, the exclusive use of human bones to produce the music, and the broader themes which inspired it.
James Desborough reflects on the transience of cultural context and the role it plays in his novel, Old, Fat Punks
Deep in the heart of animal rights activism, an ironic obsession with nipples emerges.
Find out the top 10 signs your child may be alt–right here!
Finding a new delivery system is paramount if we are to survive and overcome the systematic conquest of Cultural Marxism.
If self looks to self as sovereign authority, then it is she who makes decisions, not the never ending line of external entities looking to take on the mantle of decision-maker.
If you want censorship, it logically follows that you want a censor: someone who you are willing to privilege with deciding what you can and cannot see or hear.
“The culture is now so hostile to the authentic, raw origination of ideas it looks downright suspicious. Is freezing evolution a good idea?”
Just because something is virtue or vice-signalling doesn’t mean that it’s wrong.
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Oh, my sweet, your darker stride leaves too many stains. You have no more than simple mojo pumping through those veins.
The world is a dynamic pulsating network which increasingly transcends government and corporation.
Authenticity as order-word. Revolution as order-word.
The war is over and the paintings are replaced, but the blind people never come back.
We unwittingly labor along the neurological limits of nature’s economy.
What of your precious Internet then, my prattling bloggites?