#'you must not live in the bible belt' i very much do. shut the fuck up and take SEVERAL seats.

[something-about-sunflowers]

I love how the 'queer is a slur' people are always like 'it's your business if you want to call yourself that' but then turn right around and put themselves in your business when you do. You being here. Saying this. To a queer person. Saying they call themselves queer. That's you putting yourself in that business. You literally cannot say 'I'm not stopping you from calling yourself queer' while jumping at every single opportunity to tell people who call themselves queer that 'it's a slur though! don't forget it's a slur!!'

Nobody who calls themself queer, or who calls their community the queer community, is forcing that label on you. Queer is a political identity. Queer is people who are ACTIVELY reclaiming the label. If you are not doing that then you are not who is being talked about when we refer to the queer community. We know you are not queer. You are making that very, extremely, clear.

Plenty of people who identify as queer have had the word used against them as a pejorative. We've also had, quite literally, ANY NUMBER OF OTHER IDENTITY LABELS used against us in the same way. Gay was treated as a slur. Lesbian was treated as a slur. EVERY WORD WE HAVE EVER USED TO IDENTIFY OURSELVES HAS, AT SOME POINT, BEEN THROWN AT US IN AN ATTEMPT TO HURT US. You do not have the monopoly on trauma received at the hands of bigots.

You are harming the ENCOMPASSING community by continuing to push this narrative. You are actively dividing us and engaging in exclusionist rhetoric, whether intentionally or not, and DIVIDED WE FUCKING FALL.

[dingletragedy]

if you haven’t already guessed i loved last nights episode a lot, so i had to write a little episode coda, even if it is really bad

---

Soon enough it’s just the two of them again, as the door clicks shut behind Robert, a “thank you, ladies, we must do this again sometime” bellowing down the hallway. He turns to towards his husband who is tucked up on the sofa, feet hidden in the warmth of the cushions, and is surprised to see Aaron’s eyes sparkling. Usually, he would be thrilled at the prospect of bringing Aaron to happy tears - but he knows these tears are at his expense. “Thank you, ladies, we must do this again sometime,” Aaron repeats, voice mocking, - and then he’s laughing again - a clutching-at-stomach full-on-belly-laughing laugh.

Robert waltzes over to the sofa with this smugness about him, sure his husband might enjoy taking the piss out of him, but Robert got what he wanted. Eventually.

“I told you it’d work. I always get what I want in the end.” He says with a cockiness that Aaron sort of hates that he loves.

“Oh yeah?”

“Got her onside didn’t I?”

“Sure, all it took was a home cooked meal, a bottle of our expensive red, some ridiculously cheesy lines and 15% of the shares.” Aaron points out with a knowing look crossing his face, one Robert has been on the receiving end of one too many time lately. It only makes him smile against it.

“Shut up you,” he retorts, and then walks over to the kitchen, pours another two glasses of red,  only the cheap supermarket smush now he’s not trying to impress anyone. (Well, he’s always trying to impress Aaron, he just knows red wine isn’t the most effective way to do so).

Suddenly Aaron’s standing beside him and he’s talking in that ridiculous voice again, the one he’s putting on to mimic Robert. And Robert is slightly offended because he absolutely does not sound like that.

Does he?

“Isn’t this just lovely, the four of us here, just shooting the breeze.”

“Oh Charity I just love your top, it really brings out your eyes”

Robert’s eyebrows shoot up his head, whether that’s because he can’t believe the cheek of his husband, or whether it’s where Aaron’s hand is travelling, he’s not sure.

Aaron’s flushing hot with something that's not embarrassment for once, it’s a confidence - the kind that only red wine brings out of him.

His hand is currently grabbing at Robert’s arse, dipping in and out of the back pocket on his jeans, it’s barely there and then it is and then it’s not at all. The tease. He’s been circling around Robert for two minutes now, his fingertips running over his chest, back, arms - and now it’s making the journey from Robert’s arse around to his crotch, creating a warm trickle up his spine.

“Charity you’re my favourite dingle, I wish I’d married you instead of Aaron.”

“Oi-” Robert protests, “don’t you dare talk about my husband like that,” he’s saying, reckons he might as well indulge Aaron, it’s not often the opportunity comes up - Aarons usually the one doing to indulging.

And he’d never admit it, but he’s finding all of this rather sexy.

“And there’s only one Dingle I want to get into bed, thank you very much.”

“Ah! but I’m a Sugden-Dingle you see.”

“Who said I was talking about you? Maybe I was talking about Cain,” he plays along.

And Aaron stops his wondering his hands almost immediately, leaves Robert’s belt dangling by his sides. “You’re disgusting, you know that?”

Aaron puffs out his chest, does his best to look put off while he stalks back towards the sofa. But it’s hard to take him seriously with the more-than-obvious bulge he’s supporting.

“You better get back over here and give me a good reason not to make my way over to Bulters, then,” Robert teases with a cheeky wink.

A wink he knows could get him exactly what he wants; has done many times previously. A wink he knows could get him a slap and a night on the sofa; which it also has done, many times previously.

Aaron huffs, shaking his head. “You're an idiot.” He say, and he’s trying to act all cold, but the sparks of amusement dancing in his eyes and the half-smile give him away. That, and, he’s already got one hand back on Robert’s jeans, tugging him in close.

The mood in the room is electric again, the sexual tension bouncing between them. That is until a huff of a laugh involuntary escapes Robert’s lips.

“What?”

“Nothing - nothing, it’s just - you’ve got - got a red wine smile,” Roberts saying, with this immense fascination.

And then there’s this look on Aaron’s face, as if Roberts just recited the bible to him in Spanish.

“A what now?” Aaron asks, a tiny frown creasing his forehead, voice laced with bewilderment.

He scoffs and laughs at himself, “a red wine smile,” Robert states, because it’s that obvious.

And suddenly they’re both in fits of giggles and Robert’s heart is about to burst of his chest.

Because he’s so damn lucky to have this.

How many people get to spend the rest of their life with their very best friend? To laugh and love and live with? To be ridiculously silly with?

Best friend. Husband. Home.

Sure, he's a fucking idiot, they both are, but that’s what makes them work.

He traces the familiar lines with his eyes, and God, he loves Aaron, more than love could even know.

He elevates his arm and lets his hand rest in the juncture of Aaron’s shoulder and neck. Aaron’s pulse dancing at Robert’s fingertips. While the palms of Aaron’s hands paw at Robert’s sides. 

A silence descends over the both of them for the first time in hours, for the first time in this whole ridiculous afternoon, and he can feel Aaron’s eyes burning into him - it’s intoxicating to feel his gaze on him - even more so than the bottle of wine he’d made his way through this evening.

And as if someone flicks a switch between them, everything feels electrifying again - laughter dying on their tongues and blue bolts sparking between their bodies.

It’s all he can do to kiss Aaron silly. Wipe that red wine smile right off his face and replace it with one of lust.

Aaron pulls away after a minute and takes a break, presumably to breathe, and then closes the distance between them once again, kissing Robert breathless.

It’s only then he realises the time, Charity having to get off early for a shift at the pub.

“We’ve got a couple of hours left before Liv shows up,” he says suggestively, “how about we make the most of it?”

Aaron turns out to be the one with enough common sense to steer them over to the sofa before they start going at it on the kitchen table, and accidentally smash another fruit bowl.

His legs hit the back of the sofa, his hands grabbing at Aaron’s waist to regain balence. “Hm I like your thinking, Mr Sugden-Dingle, it’s been a while since we’ve given this sofa a show.” 

“Maybe I don't want to fuck you.” Aaron teases as he bats his eyelashes at Robert. “Maybe I just want to play FIFA.”

“Or, you could give me a blow job,” he grins against Aaron’s shoulder as he rubs at his hip, and his lips purse lightly on to his skin. Teasing him with a quick swipe of his tongue.  

“Ever the romantic.” 

“Well, I bet you won’t be complaining in ten minutes.”

Aaron quirks an eyebrow in response as he fails to keep his cool, firmly urging Robert down onto the cushions, straddling his waist. And God, Robert does enjoy a good straddle every now and again. Mostly every now, followed by every again. 

“I love you,” Robert says, before his mouth is preoccupied with another. And it’s the easiest thing in the world.

[rightsidenews]

The Religion of the Faithless Left

Ash Sharp Editor

Puritan Hypocrisy

BLAM goes the gun. OH NO say the victims. WHAT RACE IS THE ATTACKER I HOPE IT’S A WHITE GUY ALSO STOP ISLAMOPHOBIA say the hypocrites.

Puritans are always hypocrites. Read Part I of this series HERE.

Not much more than a decade ago now, the author and political commentator Chris Hedges published a book called American Fascists. It’s an interesting piece, written at the tail end of the turbulent Dubya administration that contended that, within a few years, we would be faced with a Christian Fascist movement in the United States. Based on the popularity of people like Pat Robertson and the politicisation of church-goers by the neocon group that put Reagan in power, Hedges contended that the old right was a threat to American freedom and democracy.

As wonderful a wordsmith as Hedges is, he was, as is sadly so usual for such a smart man, dead wrong. Correctly skewering the old Christian Right for their hypocrisy and often un-Christ-like behaviour is one thing. Predicting the future is quite another. If we are charitable to Hedges few could have seen how, in the decade since Bush, two terms of Obama would enable the hard left to take more social power than could ever have been conceived before.

In the modern age of puritanism, religion is supplanted by Neo-Marxist ideology. Intersectional Theory. Feminism. The root concept which underpins the idea that it is not okay to be White. You can see this everywhere you look, from the television to pop music, to politics and the popular press and sport. The arts of our ancestors speak to us, tell us about their times. Ours will do the same for future generations. Cave paintings teach us that the early humans had a mystical relationship with the animals they hunted and fled from. Renaissance pieces are filled with secrets and satire.

What will our art say about us?

In the realm of faith, the Leftist Puritan happily displays cognitive dissonance during our days of strife. It all boils down to race and religion in the end. If an Islamist mows people down, with a gun or otherwise, the reaction is… nothing. Dire warnings about the dangers of the mythical Islamophobia, perhaps.

Heaven forfend that a white male shoots people. Not only is this an indictment of his race, but he also transforms into an ideologically driven terrorist (Whiteness is political, you know), and a reason to curse out the NRA, and demand gun control. Don’t forget to accuse your enemies of politicising tragedies when it suits your agenda, though.

Shut

If Trump truly cared about the suffering in Syria, he wouldn't have a racist anti-refugee policy. But, hey, bombs distract from scandal!

— Wil 'Kick the Nazis off the tweeters' Wheaton (@wilw) April 7, 2017

UP

I join my fellow Moderate White Person in wishing an Eid of peace, and I also condemn the extremist clan of Trump. http://bit.ly/2leXZRY

— Wil 'Kick the Nazis off the tweeters' Wheaton (@wilw) September 13, 2016

WESLEY

The murdered victims were in a church. If prayers did anything, they'd still be alive, you worthless sack of shit. http://bit.ly/2lm8wKm

— Wil 'Kick the Nazis off the tweeters' Wheaton (@wilw) November 5, 2017

Islam is Peace. Prayers are Worthless. Guns are Bad. I Love Big Brother.

It will stun future generations to hear that we have become such a self-hating society, riddled with such preposterous levels of self-inflicted and undeserved guilt and paranoia.

It wasn’t always like this. In 1979, the seminal comedy group *Monty Python released Life of Brian. The movie revolves around a man mistaken for a messiah. The religious right was apoplectic and it was awesome. And that is coming from a Christian, so save your Jehovahs.

“[Life of Brian] isn’t blasphemous because it doesn’t touch on belief at all. It is heretical because it touches on dogma and the interpretation of belief, rather than belief itself.” ~ Terry Jones

The movie mainly skewered religious hypocrisy and was so controversial at the time that it was banned in several countries and had to rely on George Harrison (of The Beatles) for funding. It remains one of the finest comedies ever produced.

On re-watching the movie recently, I was struck how mild the religious satire really is in this film. In all honesty, I found myself far more interested in the non-theological scenes.

There is a sub-plot to the film which features several Left Wing revolutionary groups all seeking to oust the Romans from Judea. These groups were analogous to hard left British groups in the late 1970s, including the then powerful trade unionists. It is almost as if our timelines are running in opposite directions. As the power of the Church has diminished, to the point where (rightly) no-one would dare attempt to ban a movie for blasphemy, the loony left has arisen, Gojira in Tokyo Harbour.

While the interminable and unending squabbling between the intersections of the left is still laughable today, it cannot be denied that it is the modern day facsimilies of the right-on Reg (John Cleese) and the People’s Front of Judea that are holding the social power. Despite everyone knowing what capitalism has done for us, still, they cry out ‘Oppression!’

Apart from a free market, advances in technology, healthcare, living standards, nearly eliminating child mortality, better food, the internet, a life expectancy of over eighty, university education for all and countless varieties of hot sauce, what has capitalism ever done for us?

Instead, these puritanical crusaders turned their attention on society itself. Internet technology has enabled us to strip monsters like Harvey Weinstein of their veils of secrecy, and therefore, their power. This marvel of communication also allows the Neo-Marxist to conduct witch-hunts and purges at speeds old Joe Stalin could only have dreamed of.

Their zealotry has claimed the scalps of numerous journalists, actors and politicians who, in the main, have all fallen on their swords rather than run the gauntlet. These men may not be nice. These men might, in fact, be criminals- but that has never been a good idea for the mob to decide. **Rupert Myers, late of GQ, is a man who makes my skin crawl. **Not for his alleged behaviour towards women, which seems inept but not illegal, but for his hypocrisy.

Sire! The Virtue Beacon is lit!

To write such a diatribe against the rest of one’s gender, to elevate oneself to the status of Enlightened Nü-Male, and then to be accused thus:

“I was very clear about not being romantically or sexually interested in him, once the subject was raised. I suggested we be mates.

“He said ‘I’ve got enough mates, I’d rather fuck you’ and forced himself on me outside a pub in Fitzrovia.”

Well. I would be a liar if I did not feel a little schadenfreude. I am wrong to do so. A failed and clumsy pass at someone is not a criminal offence, but the puritanical left is treating it like one.

Saints protect you if you live in the United Kingdom, where not only will leftist society pillory you, so will the police. The Sunday Times revealed that the Deputy Prime Minister Damian Green possessed (legal) pornography on his computer. Why is this information pertinent to the public? Are we really so depraved that we must know the masturbatory habits of politicians? If so, why? In any case, the police released it to the press.

The minister has also been pilloried for allegedly touching a woman’s knee. As I predicted when I first published this piece on Medium.com on Nov. 6th, Green has been forced to resign, unable to continue in his career with sucha tarnished public image.

Let’s not ignore that corrupt, incompetent or sleazy politicians must fall. With such incredible levels of vice in politics in our nations, how is it that this non-issue is plastered across the papers?

You can thank Donald J. Trump.

The moralists have been on this crusade for some time, but it appears to have become particularly weaponised by the Left and the MSM since The President’s locker room talk. The scent of blood in the water to a shark is much like the scent of KISS records to a Bible Belt Baptist in 1978 or a whiff of scandal to the press. Egged on by an ideological leitmotif that demands purity at all times from all beings, no man should ever find himself alone with an unmarried woman again.

How we laughed at Vice-President Pence, what a dotard, refusing to sit with a female without his wife present to ensure propriety is maintained. Pence comes to this topic from an entirely different perspective. As a born again, evangelical boomer Catholic we might expect a conservative attitude. But from the sons and daughters of the hippies, the Gen-Xers, the Millennials? I thought this was supposed to be a post-morality, post-faith, post-conservative post-everything age of rampant consumerism and meaningless sex?

No eye contact, a burka, and no sex. Ah, just like back in Gender Studies 101.

Instead, Netflix TV shows are used as examples of a religious theocracy that doesn’t exist. Wow, the asinine Twitterati bleat in unison, this is just like Trump’s America.

It is not. A totalitarian mindset exists in America, for sure. I must also state that the genuinely corrupt who are toppled, the true-life sex-criminals and paedophiles and rapists and money-launderers- spare them no sympathy. They are reaping their own whirlwind, caught up in their pretence at righteousness. The sole irony is that the totalitarians are those who are now purging their movements of male feminist allies for thought crime. Journalists who stood for identity politics are now the victims of the same.

I wonder how long it will be before Dan ‘Everyone is A Literal Nazi’ Arel is cast down from his perch. In the current climate, could it be that his social media stalking of pop has-been Lily Allen transgresses the invisible line of sin?

Dan, stop. That’s creepy.

I knew a guy like this once. A girl turned him down and he cried for days.

No doubt a self proclaimed anarchist like Arel already prays to Black Atheist Trans Jesus for forgiveness for his disgusting white penis. It is not enough today, in 2017, the current year, to merely hate yourself for being a white man. You must also hate the words you say, constantly self-reflect, ensure you keep your eyes down and touch nobody, not even in jest or error.

Such behavioural abnormality is non-PC. Such behaviour demands that you be flayed in public, to lose your livelihood. This is how puritans project their power. Shame is how they maintain control. We have moved beyond expanding the definition of words so that one can be raped by eyesight or by flatulence. We are now in an era where all actions are sinful. There is no escaping the shame. You are born in it, surrounded by it, you are the sin itself. It is, dare I say it, original in nature.

Submission looks like this. A dog, with it’s legs in the air and throat bared.

Considering so many of these leftists proclaim themselves anarchists but act like dictators, I offer my own favoured anarchy.

“Anarchy is personal; it is not a collective possibility. It rests upon the idea of a person acting within a sphere where his existence is not intrusive upon the existence of another human being unless invited to be so. Should a person find that he has uninvitedly trespassed upon the serenity of another, Individual Anarchy points that man toward accepting the responsibility for his own actions while not condemning the failure of others to own up to the things they may have done wrong.” ~ U. Buster

By this perspective, the moral crusade is anathema to anarchists. Even old Antonio Gramsci, one of the founders of Neo-Marxist thought, held it to be a fact that

To tell the truth, to arrive together at the truth, is a communist and revolutionary act.

If we can agree with a long-dead communist that the truth is revolutionary, there may yet be hope for us. We must turn away from this cult of social purity, and the trappings of transcendental shaming. The internet never forgets. We’re all stuck on this rock together, forever.

http://bit.ly/2lm8CBI