The Somalis, Post-Apocalypse

El Inglés muses on the role Somalis (especially Somali women) will play in Britain after the Apocalypse finally arrives.

The Somalis, Post-Apocalypse

by El Ingles

The Somalis themselves, of course, will not realize that the apocalypse has come. Indeed, they will have no sense that anything untoward has happened at all. Fire, brimstone, blistering heat, pestilence, plunder and mayhem: to them it will just seem like a normal day back in the Old Country.

When Western countries finally collapse into Islamically-induced chaos, flaming crosses burn in the sky, and marauding bands of lunatics ravage town and countryside in search of a sack of grain or a packet of Crunchies, the Somalis will just be hanging out in the streets as usual, wondering why all the white people are acting funny.

Prudence dictates that we determine what to do with these people. Their menfolk will simply take the disappearance of law enforcement as an excuse to muck around all day, whacked out of their heads on khat and walking into traffic. Nonetheless, this leaves unresolved the question of what to do with the women. And ultimately, the choice is a simple one: eat or keep.

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Many white men will be familiar with that sudden wave of despair and panic that skitters across the surface of the brain when a Somali comes into view on the streets of a European city. Oh God, they’re here. Can’t we get rid of them? Who left the door open? All the more disturbing is the occasional flicker of recognition that some Somali birds are actually quite attractive. Even a foaming-at-the-mouth white supremacist like me has felt that familiar stirring upon seeing a fine Somali specimen on the streets of London. Reader, it is the only true form of cultural enrichment.

Our investigation of best-practice interactions with Somali females in post-apocalyptic situations has incorporated a wide array of stress-tested methodologies and techniques geared to leveraging our unique assets and experiences in optimising calorific intake vs. reproductive potential. We are therefore well-positioned to provide key stakeholders with necessary decision-making modalities in competitive, time-poor environments in which unrelated actors act not necessarily in the interests of said stakeholders. In this paper, we use real-world data to highlight the ways in which timely and appropriate decision-making in your interactions with Somali females could be the key to maximising the biological utility of both yourself and your posterity.

In other words, when the apocalypse is upon us, you will have to decide quite quickly whether to eat or keep a given Somali female, all the while fending off your neighbour’s attempts to strangle you and eat your intestines. Here we look at three ‘British’ Somali birds and try and decide whether they’re eaters or keepers. We’ve done the research so that you don’t have to. Let’s get stuck in.

Maya Jama

Instagram girl and social media fireball, best-known for her retweeting of jokes mocking dark-skinned women

Advantages:

1.   Half-Swedish, so you can always play the ‘she’s not really black’ game when you bring her round to meet your parents.
2.   Stonking hot. I mean, Google her.
3.   Half-Somali, so you can always play the ‘I’m so daring, I’m with a black girl’ game when you’re down at the pub.
4.   Stonking hot, in case I didn’t already say it.
 

Disadvantages:

1.   Nothing springs to mind.
 

Verdict: A keeper for sure. Gets into trouble on Twitter, but that will be inactive anyway during the apocalypse. Stick her in the back of your wagon and tell your minions to take her to your castle.

Fahma Mohamed

Anti-FGM campaigner and Guardian-backed wunderkind

Advantages:

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Chapter 2: Watching Liberals Tie Themselves Into Illiberal Knots

By their own logic, liberals have to quit wielding the brush when they find they’ve painted themselves into The Krazy Korner. Dr Turley explains what they’ve done regarding Alex Jones (and, en passant, Tommy Robinson). As I do, Dr T. thinks this is not the last act:

A conundrum for the Left. A battle in which they are hoist with their own petard.
The non-Left need do nothing but observe their ‘the-end-justifies-any-means’ frenzied antics.

What’s not to love?

Trump’s Visit to the UK: Paul Weston’s Commentary

Paul’s video went up several days ago, so it’s a bit out-of-date for “breaking” news. I so utterly sympathize with his being late to the party. I’m always late; it takes time to consider events, “breaking” or not.

I tried to have this begin just prior to the point where some Brit TV reader “interviews” Sebastian Gorka [you can push it back to the beginning if you like; some good moments there]. As Paul noticed, Gorka was laughing at this fellow…it was almost a ROTFLMAO moment. That is wasn’t moreso is due to Gorka’s self-control since this little beaver isn’t required to listen or think, but his utter lack of self-awareness here is at least of clinical significance. Fascinating for the rest of us. He just rolls on like The-Little-Engine-That-Could. Whadda moron.

I feel sorry for anyone in the UK who has a TV.

RE: Mr. Gorka. He served in the British military as a part-time volunteer, in Intelligence. He also worked for the Hungarian government – and previously, for Viktor Orban, during his time in Hungary. Gorka’s family comes from Hungary, so of course he’s a nationalist. NO, that doesn’t make him an anti-Semite, any more than it does us.

The put-downs and smears of Gorka by the Vast Leftwing Loudmouths are just the price people pay for being part of Trump’s attempts to drain The Swamp.

Denmark’s Yuge Sense of Humor

This is a good example of the Danish ability to laugh at themselves and others. This time “others” is (mostly) Donald Trump, but it’s a broad brush they have, managing to paint the Netherlands, too.

Some good sight gags, to boot.

I love the Danes, the last sane country in Western Europe.

NOTE: Leave the subtitle button on…unless you speak Danish, of course. Wrong. The B told me that and I forgot to check for myself. Them Danes already put it in English, but the TV people make you click on the YouTube video itself.

Oh, please don’t tell me you’ve seen it already. Except for ketogenic diets and Angelina Jordan, I don’t get to YouToob much.

Big Sibling Strikes Again

I can’t call it “Big Brother”, because that would be sexist and patriarchal. And Google is just one of the three Big Siblings of our time, the others being Facebook and Twitter.

The old blogspot version of Gates of Vienna has been dormant for a long time — we moved here to our very own domain more than five and a half years ago. Nevertheless, it seems the old blog continues to offend the sensitive, because we just received this entertaining email from Google:

Hello,

Google has been notified that content in your blog contains allegedly infringing content that may violate the rights of others and the laws of their country. The infringing content that has been made unavailable can be found at the end of this message. For more information about this removal and how it affects your blog, please visit https://support.google.com/blogger/bin/answer.py?l=en&answer=2402711.

The notice that we received, with any personally identifying information removed, will be posted online by a service called Lumen at https://www.lumendatabase.org. You can search for the notice associated with the removal of your content by going to the Lumen page, and entering in the URL of the blog post that was removed. If you have legal questions about this notification, you should consult your legal advisor.

Terms of Service: https://www.google.com/intl/en/policies/terms/
Content Policy: https://www.blogger.com/content.g

The Google Team

Urls affected:
http://gatesofvienna.blogspot.com/2007/08/ironic-rondellhund.html
http://gatesofvienna.blogspot.com/2007/09/lars-vilks-earns-his-fatwa.html
http://gatesofvienna.blogspot.com/2007/09/lars-vilks-speaks-out.html

Countries affected:
Pakistan

I don’t really understand what action Google has taken, or is planning to take. Will they delete the offending posts entirely? Or just block them on gatesofvienna.blogspot.pk?

In any case, copies of the same content will continue to exist on the current site. Presumably those Pakistani luminaries know that, but don’t (yet) have the clout to force the removal of the material from gatesofvienna.net.

In case they’ve been removed by the time you read this, here are the three posts in question at their new URLs:

Those should remain live, at least until Hillary gets elected in 2020 and cracks down on the independent service providers, forcing them to close the accounts of customers who publish “hate content”.

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The notice from Google prompted me to take a walk down memory lane and revisit our material on Lars Vilks and the Modoggies. We began following the uproar over Mr. Vilks’ rondellhundar within a few days after they first appeared in public. He didn’t start earning death fatwas until the first one was published in the newspaper Nerikes Allehanda (the image to the right). That was enough to trigger Islamic outrage all over the world.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. Not all of our readers were following the Modoggie saga back in 2007, so I’d best start at the beginning.

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Trump and Brexit

Seems as though once-Great Britain has just experienced a series of Trump stinkbombs, the biggest of which is his public callout of PM May.

She must be seething and Boris Johnson must be showing all his teeth.

My favorite of Trump’s stinkers was his denouncement of Sadiq Khan. But you’ll look long and hard on Google to find it. Same with Duck Duck Go. I don’t have the patience to look for the quote I saw regarding London’s soaring crime rate but it’s out there if you parse your search just right.

Wait till Scotland gets to tell him what they think of his golf course. Watch hiim do battle with the nay-sayers. Must be his heritage on his mother’s side.

Does This Drone Make Me Look Fat?

If you’re an impresario who wants to stage a fashion show in Saudi Arabia, you obviously can’t have any of those lascivious harlots parading down the runway in skimpy attire in front of men who are not their fathers, brothers, uncles, or sons. So what to do?

A Saudi entrepreneur has found an ingenious solution: use special-purposed drones to carry the garments through the room above the heads of the audience, creating what Vlad calls “Ghost Wives”.

This would have seemed a far-fetched gag if it appeared in a late-night TV spoof. Yet here it is — you definitely can’t make this excrement up:

Hat tip: Vlad Tepes.

The Handyman’s Tale

For readers who are unfamiliar with the novel The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood — to which the following allegorical pastiche by JLH pays non-hommage — here’s the Wikipedia entry for the book.

The Handyman’s Tale

or

Margaret Atwood meets Quentin Tarantino

by JLH

Birth of a Nation

It happened in a place once called California. There was a surprising change of leadership in the national government, which had, until then, pursued a reasonable policy of social benefits for the poor to offset the incredible wealth amassed by the governing class and its consiglieri, and a sensible foreign policy of financial rewards for countries most likely to dislike and attack us. With the unexpected shift in leadership came a fanciful desire to improve an economy that successive bipartisan leaders had shown could not be improved; and a wrong-headed insistence that this country — like any other — should stand up for itself.

The final straws were perverted, “fundamentalist” interpretations of the 1st and 2nd Amendments. A brush-fire revolutionary movement formed, led by a retired power politician named Barbara Wrestler (known to friend and foe alike as “Barbie Bananas”). 10-term Governor Lunagleem was persuaded to declare the Feminist Nation of Westland, with the Golden Teddy Bear as its symbol. Its ready-made rallying cry was the title of the runaway bestseller, Cherchez la femme puissante. A widespread and visceral distaste for “flyover fundamentalism” among the elite of Westland was the impetus for a decree that the official philosophy of the new nation would be based upon principles outlined in the sociological milestone 50 Shades of Pink. The defining motto on the Teddy Bear seal of the new nation would be “allectio privus puellae” — To each her own.

Governor Lunagleem — in recognition of his long and faithful service in government, and his unflagging advocacy of women’s rights — was retired with great honors and offered, by way of exception, a passport that would not expire, should he ever decide to leave Westland and seek the presidency of that other country.

Offal

Our tale of life in the Feminist Democratic Republic of Westland is largely contained in the life of Offal. We first encounter him in the exclusively female- staffed public pre-school (there was no private schooling, except for the few daughters of highly placed officials), where he learned that a dispute between boys was decided on the basis of which boy was perceived to be the aggressor, who was then punished by being sent to an isolation corner for a while. A dispute between girls was resolved by a serious talk with an advisor, who would mediate an agreement between them. A dispute between a girl and a boy was regarded as Right versus Wrong or Good versus Evil. The girl was Right and the boy was Wrong. He was required to stand alone, as all the girls circled him and slapped his face — some angrily, some more kindly and softly. If he resisted — which became increasingly rare — he graduated to being Evil. He was made to lean his elbows on the teacher’s desk; and each girl was given a willow switch to strike his buttocks as she passed by. Offal and his classmates learned two lessons from this: 1)Never argue with a girl within view of any authority; 2) Never wear shorts to school — some girls will choose to whip the bare legs.

Bathroom facilities in schools, as in all public institutions, were of two kinds: Female and General. Offal’s introduction to this system was witnessing an outraged 7-year-old classmate complaining to their teacher that there was a girl standing at the urinals, observing and commenting. “Of course, dear,” the teacher told him kindly, “How else will she learn? She aspires to be a urologist.”

After the conditioning of pre-school, Life Entry School offered more substantive knowledge in arithmetic, reading, writing and the History of the Golden Teddy Bear Republic. All classes were issued waterproof helmets for their required, weekly depilatory shower. Boys were observed, to decide when they should be issued facial depilatory. The goal was no visible hair below the eyes. Everyone alike. There would be no returning to the era of “hairy-chested men.”

A companion program in the summer found every boy at “Summer Camp” — a more social than pedagogical training. Instead of a recorded version of Reveille, the day began with a loud call of “Soo-ee, Soo-ee, Pig! Pig! Pig!” Breakfast was sugarless oatmeal served in lengthy wooden trenchers referred to as “troughs” and a thick slice of bread. After eating, each boy carried his trencher past an open spigot, rinsing it off as he passed and stacking it upside down on the large drainboard. Lunch was beans with some salt pork in the same trencher, and bread. Supper was meatballs in tomato sauce, and bread, with a suety chocolate pudding for dessert. Each meal was presided over by watchful female counselors, who roamed between the long tables, noting when a boy seemed not to be eating, and rapping him across the back with a bamboo stick, saying, “Eat, Piggy, Eat!”

Activities during the day were various kinds of manual labor: moving boulders, leveling paths and roadways, gathering firewood from the surrounding woods. The great advantage for both “campers” and “counselors” was that this regimen facilitated an exhausted sleep. Nonetheless, the older boys were pulled — one by one — out of their bunks during the night and taken to one of the counselors’ cabins for what the counselors laughingly called, “Sex 101,” where they learned all the ways in which a woman could be pleased.

Offal never did know what the girls’ Summer Camp was like, but he noticed that with each end-of-summer return to school, the girls seemed to become more distant and contemptuous of the boys.

The final levels of public education — before girls went to one of the plethora of Westland universities, and the boys went to either blue- or white-collar trade schools — were also the closing phases in the treatment of male toxicity. Boys were separated into algorithmically selected groups and pulled from class twice a week to attend “de-masculinizing” clinics, where they were electronically connected to monitoring devices. Conducted by therapists working in pairs, the clinics featured 50-minute videos of young people at various activities. Blood pressure, pulse and skin temperature often spiked with one of three things: dangerous activities like cliff diving or dirt bike racing; warlike confrontations between males; the sight of an unexpected expanse of female skin. Every boy who registered a spike received an instantaneous electric jolt high inside his thighs. By the end of the second year, the attraction of danger, physical conflict and sex had dwindled to such an extent that images that had once caused a spike now barely registered. Many of the boys just closed their eyes or looked away.

Boys’ credits for graduation — aside from the masculine detoxification sessions — included the ability to read a newspaper, math through plane geometry (algebra and beyond were considered too intricate), a comfortable acquaintance with a computer and keyboard, and at least six credits in gardening/farming, tool-handling and crafts.

Thus well-trained in the necessary rules and attitudes of the Feminist Republic of Westland, Offal matured into a shy, comely young fellow. He was appointed to be a Domestic Worker, and was given a multi-year assignment as a handyman for three of the leading Wives in his designated community, doing yard work, animal husbandry and carpentry.

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All Muslims LOVE Gay Sex!

Earlier this spring a group of socialists pulled a stunt where they went onto the streets and claimed Jesus was a homosexual, presumably with the intention of inciting Christians. It goes without saying that none of them would dare or even consider doing such a thing to Muslims.

Rasmus Paludan, a Danish lawyer and activist, decided to do just that recently in Copenhagen.

Many thanks to Mr. Paludan for the translation, and to Vlad Tepes for the subtitling:

Video transcript:

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Merkel Akhbar!

The following report by Egri Nök was published earlier today at Vlad Tepes in a slightly different form.

German Press on Attack on Merkel: When someone runs towards you, yelling ‘Allahu Akbar’, don’t be bigoted!

by Egri Nök

Berlin — on Wednesday, a loudly yelling Afghan ran towards Angela Merkel as she was leaving the Reichstag, and was wrestled down by two security guards. It was caught on camera, and aired live, more or less accidentally.

Please have a look at the two following videos and compare.

The first one aired LIVE, so the interviewer and his guest keep on talking, as they have no idea what is going on. The sound is un-edited and you can hear the yelling very clearly.

Then please watch the second clip, produced by Bild newspaper afterwards, and compare the sound of the two.

1. The clip that aired live, relevant part beginning at 7 seconds in:

2. Bild’s edited clip. Please pay attention to the sound:

Die Welt reassure us that the “disturber was merely running towards Merkel”, no harm intended, and that there is no reason for a “knee jerk reaction”, just because someone runs toward you, yelling “something in a foreign language” that “sounds similar to Allahu akbar”.

We are translating it for the humor:

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The Shape of Mud

Below is JLH’s latest comment on Hollywood’s contribution to our life and thought. He says: “You might call it “Alfred Hitchcock’s Revenge’.”

The Shape of Mud

by JLH

Once upon a time there was a fairy-tale land, where fairy-tale people lived fairy-tale lives and made up fairy-tale tales to entertain all the people who did not live fairy-tale lives. Among those unfortunate souls who lived drab and ordinary lives — and unlike the paragon of perfection symbolized by the statuette given as the highest fairy-tale land award for story-telling — their ordinary males were encumbered by brazen masculine procreative equipment. Pedestrian persons from outside fairy-tale land paid a significant amount of money to see the tales made in fairy-tale land, so fairy-tale land accumulated vast wealth, and thus felt its responsibility to instruct and guide the patrons of its storytelling.

It came to pass that some of the fairy-tale folk conceived the idea of enticing the benighted souls outside of fairy-tale land to become a little more sensitive by showing them a fairy-tale alternative — the way to a fairy-tale existence almost as exalted as the lives in fairy-tale land. They thought about other fairy tales that had gently and subtly demonstrated human inferiority to other species — a tenet of faith in fairy tale land that applied to all of mankind, with a few exceptions, like the residents of fairy-tale land. There had been a very successful tale of a whole world of blue people (what a wonderful concept!) who only wanted to be left in peace to settle their own differences in their own way. But along came humans astride their superior technology, and wrought havoc. It was left to the one or two truly sensitive humans to try to save this exotic civilization.

The first principle to be derived from this older tale was that the OTHER must be shockingly different, but not repulsive. Even a tail is all right, if it is attractive. A long history of tale-telling in fairy-tale land had established that non-humans who are hostile and evil are usually repulsive in at least one of their manifestations.

Positive alien representatives must also be recognizably like us, but ever so much better, like Rousseau’s noble savage. And if they are to serve the purpose, they must be incapable of doing humankind any real harm.

The answer they found was a touching tale about Mignon, a shy woman with a crippling handicap — severe, incurable progressivism. Unable to hold a job in the white-collar world despite her BA, MA, PhD in intercontinental floral design, she has become a full-time cleaner in a government facility. She is befriended by Kaytee — a kindly, if undereducated, co-cleaner who also lives in one of the many apartments in the large Victorian house where Mignon lives. As befits a film from fairy-tale land, both Mignon and Kaytee are incredibly beautiful women. They are both aware of the toxic masculinity of the male of the species. They have had limited, and largely unpleasant, contacts with boys-to-men.

Day after day, as they clean, they pass by a door that is always locked. Above the door is a sign: Gregor’s Place. They clean so unobtrusively and efficiently and always on schedule, that they are eventually rewarded with extended work time, pay raises and the key to the locked door of Gregor’s Place. They enter with mixed apprehension and excitement. It is a large, rectangular room, one-half of which is a large, glass-walled terrarium filled with tropical plants. Their job is to clean the open half of the room and keep the high glass partition spotless. As they do this, they can identify — among other things — orchids, and something similar to a very large Venus Flytrap. Once, when a small bird flutters down from an opened slot in the ceiling above, it ventures too close to the predatory flower, and disappears in its maw. At intervals, other kinds of nutrition fall from other openings, into the terrarium — often a kind of light-green rain.

Kaytee is fascinated at first, but gradually loses interest and cleans stoically. Mignon, however, studies the various plants and comes to the conclusion that the Gregor in the name over he door refers to Gregor Mendel, and that this is a giant experiment in creating new genotypes. So she always devotes a few minutes to watching the plants and trying to identify their characteristics.

One day, while she watches, leaning slightly forward, with both hands flat on the glass, a plant emerges alone, moving with a curious gliding motion, and approaching the glass. It has an almost sylphic figure and a stamen-like appendage dangling between its two ambulatory limbs. With a shock, she casts her mind back to her studies and identifies the figure before her as a fully human-sized, independent rosette of the Orchis Italica or Naked Man Orchid, with its usually sketchy facial features more finished and its “physique” not only enlarged, but strengthened. The presence of an apparent stamen and no pistil tells her she is looking at a masculine plant.

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FaceAche Strikes Again

Well, that Terrible Twos developmentally delayed troika – Facebook and Gargle/YahooTube – have banned/suspended Jordan Peterson. This round goes to FaceAche, since it’s the one currently messing with him:

GoV readers know how much I loathe Zuck; but you may not know I traded in Gargle for DuckDuckGo a few years ago. YahooTube is a muddle of inconsistency: currently, Dr. Peterson’s 574,000 subscribers wouldn’t stop them from banning him, either – just as they did previously.

I didn’t investigate his experience with Twee; I’ll bet he’s living on borrowed time flying on the back of Stalin’s bluebird-brain, too.

What these totalitarians don’t realize is that Dr. Peterson is a force of nature. If they keep fooling around with his accounts, he’s smart enough to find/build alternative routes for his work. What he’s doing is far too important to be erased by The Totalitarians.

Just wait till the angry people start demanding these modern-day Robber Barons be brought to heel. They’ll get to learn a little history.

The Serendipity of a Newspaper Typo

Yesterday I read an article in The Express that referred to someone as a “Euro-septic” (I think they were talking about Matteo Salvini of the Lega Nord). It seemed to me that the unfortunate typo just cried out to be memed, so I made this pic:

That’s Nigel Farage on the left and Jean-Claude Juncker on the right. Since Mr. Farage is British, I used the Brit spelling of “skeptic”.

Dr Peterson, Ms. DimBulb, and a Lobster Walk into a Bar

[The title of this post was lifted and changed; with apologies to a YouTube channel, The Saad Truth, found here. Since seeing his title, all others seem too tame now, which will become apparent in the course of this takedown – on the off chance you haven’t yet witnessed this humiliation.]

Being an American, I was (gratefully) unaware of this BBC Channel Four news babe. Or journalista, if you prefer. Ignorance of her future work is greatly to be desired since, as is the case for much of the American MSM, she appears to suffer from a terminal case of cognitive dissonance. Combined with her inability to hear or to parse Dr. Peterson’s statements, these deficits should, one thinks, serve her well in her chosen profession (and we all know how old that profession is).

Dr. Peterson evidently appeared on this wymyn’s program in aid of selling his book,

12 Rules for Life: An Antidote to Chaos

Our GoV link for the book is here.

The book can be pre-ordered, to arrive tomorrow, if you want the Kindle version.

An editorial review (by one of my favorite culture critics) says:

Jordan Peterson is the most important and influential Canadian thinker since Marshall McLuhan. His international fame and impact continue to grow exponentially. Peterson’s bold interdisciplinary synthesis of psychology, anthropology, science, politics and comparative religion is forming the template for the genuinely humanistic university of the future.” —Camille Paglia

For those too young to remember McLuhan, he no doubt has a wiki page. For those old enough to remember his predictions, you know how prescient he was.

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Channel Four is no doubt off somewhere licking its wounds and wondering if they’re mortal afflictions. Those lacerations certainly are as wide as a church door. Well, at the very least, a small country church door.

My acquaintance with Dr Peterson’s work is fairly recent, but I plan to make up for my ignorance with an in-depth study of his writings. I do wish his early research on the sons of alcoholics was more widely available. Yes, the many articles are co-authored with other young scholars, but just based on their breadth, they deserve wider dissemination.

We’ll be posting more of his talks in the future.

I welcome your comments on this video or on his work in general.