Monday, 25 May 2009
When a woman makes any kind of remark to the effect that you are stingy, remember that this is a way of declaring her expertise at spending someone else's money (probably yours).
- Lawrence Shannon
When the Anglobitch is young, she learns early she is privileged. No matter how ugly, stupid, obese or obnoxious, she is flaunted in buttons and bows. She is more ‘valuable’ than male children. She is ‘special’. A misandrist media that shows hundreds of men being killed, tortured and degraded on an hourly basis powerfully reinforces this impression.
However, the Anglobitch really assumes her mantle of venom at puberty. Puberty instantly bestows sexual status upon her. In the repressive, puritanical climate of Anglo-American culture, becoming an ‘owner’ of sex is dizzying indeed. Now, the flat-chested, tow-haired Anglobitch acquires her permanent sneer, frosty demeanour and contempt for males.
Her clothes become more provocative as she learns to delight in her power over men. When the Anglobitch dresses sexily, she does not become sexier. To the contrary: her alluring clothes represent heightened repression and frigidity, since withholding sex from men is her only source of self-esteem. Indeed, the fairer the Anglobitch appears, the uglier her mindset.
All Anglo-Saxons, including psychologists, are blind to the Anglobitch phenomenon. They think her attitudes are normal, even healthy. Objectively speaking, the Anglobitch is neither: plummeting birth and marriage rates among the most spirited and able in Anglo societies are unmistakable signs of social dysfunction.
At school, the Anglobitch receives preferential treatment. Despite her IQ being demonstrably lower than that of males, she performs better, largely due to the education system being ‘beefed up’ with coursework and PC agendas calculated to inflate her performance.
The post-pubescent Anglobitch begins to cultivate herself as a diva to whom the world ‘owes’ something. She must walk on red carpets and sleep on eiderdown. And woe betide males who do not pay her deference! Such poltroons are struck off her list of potential meal-tickets. Around this time, the Anglobitch buys into the drivel pumped out by the Anglo-American trash media. Since she never questions the voice of authority, she soon thinks everyone lives in a mansion and owns a private helicopter. And since she is the great Anglobitch, she deserves these glittering prizes by dint of possessing a vagina.
Then begins her quest for a suitor, a quest doomed by her ridiculous, media-inflated expectations. Lacking self-awareness, she cannot see how little she herself has to offer: arrogance; no levity, wit or charm; a one-dimensional, media saturated range of interests.
This last is the most grating. How often have educated Anglo-American men been astounded to find foreign women who can talk about things beyond celebrity gossip and the latest hairstyle; women who know something about politics, philosophy, the fine arts, exotic history or classical music? How dull is the Anglobitch by comparison! How vapid and shallow her tastes and perceptions! Is it any wonder that cultured Anglo-American men are so inclined to reject these vile creatures? And this crass one-dimensionality is determined entirely by Anglo-American Puritanism. Her entire status hinges on owning sex, so she is not obliged to develop other interests.