Showing posts with label cracker. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cracker. Show all posts

Wednesday, March 19, 2014

There Are Consequences...

There is this cracker on the manosphere I'll call "Dr. Delusion."  He has a very young girlfriend I'll call "Lady Misandry."  Now before you get all politically correct on me and call me out for the use of the term "cracker," I'll have you know that I have it on high authority (that is, a series of bartenders in Florida) that "cracker" is not necessarily a slur and I am not using it pejoratively here.  I'm using it to paint a picture of a working-class Southern man who is suspicious of outside authority (government, intellectuals, etc.) and clings to the Old School values of traditional gender roles, independence, self-reliance, and bigotry.  The kind of guy who waves the Confederate flag at Lynyrd Skynyrd concerts but will happily offer you a beer from his cooler.  (Racists usually take to me on sight because, well look at me!  I could be an Aryan Den Mother.)

In fact, I find much to admire about Dr. Delusion.  First of all, he is one of those rare "manospherians" who actually seems to work, and to work hard.  He's the kind of guy who is not afraid to get his hands dirty.  He embodies a lot of the traditional masculine virtues I hold in high esteem, not least of which is the ability to fix stuff.  I'm sure he knows his way around Home Depot, and can take any power tool in hand with confidence and authority.

Dr. Delusion and his lady live in a rural area where they raise their own vegetables and animals.  I was particularly interested to find that they raise rabbits for food because a few years ago, when the economy tanked, I seriously considered doing the same in my backyard.  Unfortunately, I couldn't imagine actually slaughtering them.  I would have had to find someone like Dr. Delusion to do that for me.  Also, I've eaten rabbit once, and I didn't like it very much.*  That's when I decided a better plan was to stockpile booze, so that I'd have something to barter when Doomsday hit.

I've been trying to give up meat, but it's a struggle.  I'm fully aware that eating flesh I am not prepared to kill myself is hypocritical.  Therefore, I forced myself to view the photos Dr. Delusion had gleefully posted on his blog of killing and skinning a rabbit.  It actually looked pretty easy, and tossed in a stew I'm sure it was very palatable.

So I'm reading along, almost wishing I had a neighbor as handy and resourceful as Dr. Delusion, when I come to this line:  "This was a two year old female who refuse [sic] to let my bucks breed her.  Around my house, there are consequences for refusing to breed." [italics mine]

And that's when I almost lost my lunch.
* I've actually seen a rabbit killed before.  When I was visiting a friend's farm near Alessandria, la nonna beckoned me over so that I could watch her dash a rabbit's head against the side of the barn.  I threw up on the spot, much to the old lady's amusement.  I had just enjoyed a gelato, and when it came back up it was still cold.  A singular experience.