Snowflakes and the Clinton Acolytes Making Free Thought Punishable

SNOWFLAKE: A term used to describe extremist liberals that get offended by every statement and/or belief that doesn’t exactly match their own. These individuals think they are just as “unique” as snowflakes, when really their feelings are just as fragile.

Source: Urban Dictionary

Snowflakes are usually defined as people who are too sensitive to hearing other points of view. The reason for this is their acolyte status within the confines of political correctness. They don’t need to be liberal. They just need to be hardheaded and mentally enslaved.

While one or just a few snowflakes can become recluses and not be a burden on society, millions of them tend to be very problematic. Their weak state, caused by a lack of openmindedness, is easy to take advantage of. As a popular modern example, lets take the Clinton Acolyte Movement (CAM). These people were turned into walking catch phrases. Ironically, one of the biggest brainwashed member was Hillary Clinton herself. She was the one brainwashed and one of the ones doing the brainwashing. During the 2016 presidential campaign, most people found her less than knowledgeable, although acolyte pundits and simple folks alike saw her as a progressive feminist. And this, again, ironically, was her downfall, seeing as it was the main contributor to her not being able to have an original thought throughout the campaign. Indeed, she was the stereotypical and prototypical puppet, strings being pulled by Bill Clinton, Barack Obama, Wall Street bankers, etc. While Trump was able to change strategies, she was just stuck in the cacophony of mental nothingness, not able to rebut the future President. She lost the last two debates, falling victim to Trump’s one-liners. Trump told the people what they wanted answers for. That’s why he won.

Trump won the presidency, but he failed to make any gains in the regressivism brought about by snowflake acolytes of the CAM. In fact, all the liberal media was doing was trying to discredit the President. To this day, tehy dig and dig and can find nothing of impeachable substance. And the CAM has acolyte-friendly rebuttals. The one that really digs deep into me is how Bill Clinton cannot be compared to Trump because he’s not the President. But Trump never received a blow job from a woman under his desk at the oval office. That’s more disgusting than anything the President has been accused of. But there’s the CAM, hanging on and repeating the aforementioned rebuttal. There are the same machines who scorn Trump for keeping his election promises on the one hand while scorning him for not keeping his election promises on the other. Make up your minds, snowflakes. It’s fucking irritating.

I was compelled to write this after the CAM hypocrisy of the last couple of days. Yes, the CAM encircles and controls the Democrats opinions in the USA. This week, there was the possible unification of the Koreas happening after a US government representative visited North Korea and just before President Donald Trump is set to visit Kim Jong-Un personally. A path was set and perhaps it will be agreed upon when the American President visits. But does Trump get any credit from the mainstream media? Would Obama have gotten credit under the same circumstances? The answers are clear, yet the zombies of the CAM are incapable of understanding this or even listening at any comments towards it.

When I was in university, as a leftist, I was always fighting for free speech. I was an advocate of differing views. But taht no longer exists. It seems as if there is a list of issues or topics that are brought up and categorized as either being appropriate or inappropriate to talk about. Thus speakers are chosen as per these guidelines. Anything beyong the “appropriate” column is deemed politically incorrect, evil, or, worst of all, otherworldly. It is condemned as as sort of -ist , usually racist. Ergo,free speech is curbed, if not halted, at the university level. These are people in their late-teens and early-twenties who have learned how to be judgemental.

Before continuing, I need to clarify that I have no political affiliation at this time and I have never been a supporter of the Republican party or any other right-wing party. But I am a democratist, not to be confused with a Democrat. I believe in equality, freedom, and justice. This is to say that I judge people according to how they go about administering policy, how they live their daily lives, how they act in the public realm in accordance to the law, and how they provide for the general citizenry.

Let’s tackle the issue of illegal immigration. President Trump is following the law 100% by planning to deport illegal immigrants. Why is CAM up in arms against this? He is following the law. Let me repeat in caps, lest you wake up: PRESIDENT DONALD TRUMP IS FOLLOWING THE LAW BY PLANNING TO DEPORT “ILLEGAL” IMMIGRANTS. Wake up snowflakes. What’s so hard to understand? But don’t take my word for it.

Illegal immigration is the illegal entry of a person or a group of persons across a country’s border, in a way that violates the immigration laws of the destination country, with the intention to remain in the country.

Source: Wikipedia

There. There’s no room for arguing. Although well-intentioned, the mayors allowing sanctuary cities arr breaking the law.

Then there’s the apparent feminist movement.

Feminism: The advocacy of women’s rights on the basis of the equality of the sexes.

Source: Google Dictionary

Democratism is 100% behind the feminist movement as defined above. I have been a feminist my whole life and have supported real feminist movements. What we have now is rampant support for female supremacy. Tough words, but true. In the least, it’s the ability to belitgle, bully, and insult males, especially white middle-aged ones, without any admonishment or repercussions. It’s a free-for-all oon these “evil oppressors”. Snowflakes, most of these “oppressors” are normal people who arevtrying to live a happy life by earning it and by abiding the law and being respectful.

I watch panels on TV newscasts and women can freely insult a man and the man has to hold back. Meanwhile, the woman can interrupt and yell at and falselyndiscreditbthe man while everyone accepts the discrediting as fact.

Then there’s the sensitive subject of sexual abuse. The leader of Canada’s New Democratic Party said that a man accused of sexual harassment should be considered guilty until proven innocent. He sort of withdrew a bit from his original comments, but only to the extent he had to to keep his male votes. The Prime Minister didn’t say as much, but he has forcefully made sure thatbhalf his cabinet ministers are women. With most of his cabinet being make, it would go against the democratic feminist dogma of equality. But the men need to shut up. Their opinion would be construed as misogynistic.

So let’s see. My neighbour doesn’t like me. She accuses me of sexual harassment. My career is ruined. I get shunned. I’m later found not guilty. That’s real fair.

Let’s conclude by hoping some CAM members have actually read this through. Let’s hope that people start seeing the truth.

BREAK OUT OF YOUR POLITICALLY CORRECT BUBBLE AND SMELL THE SHRILL SHOCK OF CONFORMITY IN THE AIR. UGH!!!

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The Lonely Life of the Moribund

I’ve come to accept that the only sure thing in life is death. No. Not taxes. You must either be ignorant or just not rich enough.

But why does it need to be so painful? One pain no longer replaces another. It just joins the other to make it more intense. You naturally fall aslesp earlier just to wake up to go piss at 2 in the morning. Then you look at stars you thought would never age. But if Monica Belucci gets old, so will you. If Morrissey loses his voice, you bet you will too. If your high school teacher died after a life well spent, well…….

And remember, you won’t age as well as Monica.

I saw Shania Twain on TV the other day. She was so beautiful. But you couldn’t help seeing that she had to hide her age.

The lonely and misunderstood life of the moribund is trite at best. Acceptance is a step forward. You can accept your impending lack of energy, your continued receding hairline, even those new wrinkles around your eyes. Hell, I even accept being called “Sir” out of respect by young people. And I’m still 40-something.

The scary and misunderstood life of the ignorant and elding. It’s sad.

All this because Monica Belucci and Shania Twain, twomclassy ladies I’m still in love with, looked old on TV the other day.

But don’t worry. I’ve already snapped out of it.

Methoni — The Overlooked Upper Road (Πάνω Δρόμος)

Methoni, the town where I grew up, has grown into a primo vacay destination. So much so, that I’ve overlooked some pics I took of places because, frankly, there were just too many to choose from.

Take the above, for example. Zoom on in and you’ll see a cute menu catered for tourists. It’s mostly a local winter or low- and off-season staple. Then again, off-season is the time to go. Even pre-season of May-June is great. My favourite time is post-season of mid-September to early November, where you can enjoy all the amenities at bargain prices and temperate weather (as opposedto the 52-degree Celsius feel of Juky and August. The water will have few swimmers and you’ll be sure to eat without a reservation. Even though most restaurants are closed in the winter, pre- and post-season finds almost all of them open. And you’ll be treated like a king.

Although he deserves a separate article, and will get one soon, Andreas runs a great place. The owner of an organic olive orchard, Andreas Diles has the liveliest place away from the beach. In the evening, the main Methoni street, made of mostly cobblestone, is closed to traffic. Mind you, there are only two streets long enough to traverse the whole town. This is the “upper” street where the “market” is. In relaxing wooden chairs and old-school tables, Andreas and his wife, introduced as a chef from Poland, offer sumptuous nouveau-Greek cuisine. Or is it fusion. You have the old favourites your Greek grandm used to make but with an Eastern European twist. I never knew how many different versions and name ratatouille really had. When asked if this was ratatouille, Andreas says “I can’t say if is, since our version is a lot better”. It’s this proud spirit and Andreas’s constant interaction with the tourists taht makes this an unbelievable dining experience.

With its colourful non-matching chairs, “το καφέ της Φιλιως” or Filio’s Cafe, is a hit with the locals. A traditional coffee shop in the morning (above), quiet WiFi and contemplation spot in the afternoon (although the owner will try to outdo herself to make sure you’re continuously comfortable), and bar at night, there’s always something going on here. This is a surprising hotspot to meet people.

There you go. And not a beach in sight. It’s about a 10-minute leisurely walk away.

A Hot Young Old-School Greek Communist

I was deciding where to sit in the Gazi neighbourhood in Athens. As you can see on the paper, it was Sunday, September 3rd, 2017. It would be my last day in Athens for yet another summer.

The image above was taken at a posh cafe just a few minutes after I’d bought it. I had come out of the amazing Athens metro system (boasting the title of best metro in Europe) and was walking my way up the stairs whena stunning young university student came up to me and asked me if I had been to the Greek Communist Youth conference.

“Sorry, I never heard about it. I’ve been out of the loop for so long,” I confessed.

She smiled and looked at me. She knew I was saying the truth yet was accepting the fact that I’d griwn out of it.

“You can help by buying a paper,” she asked, smiling, knowing she’d guilted me into it.

“I’ve got two hours to kill,” I told her. Do you need to stay here, or can I buy you coffee, a drink, or dinner?”

She smiled.

“Do I look like day game?”

“It’s actually after six. But it’s still day. But I haven’t heard that term in Greece. ”

She laughed, exposing her neck s she lensd backwards.

“Well, the word doesn’t have a Greek equivalent. We just call it kamaki,” she said.

“Παναγιώτη, πάω για καφέ,” she told a fellow university student. He nodded.

“Good. Bet you never thought I’d say yes to your offer. And i’m damn hungry,” she said.

We walked to my regular place. I was greeted personally by my waiter, and given my favourite seat. He barely looked at the girl. She didn’t quite fit the type of customer they be serving.

“Yes, Costa,” I said, “for two people. ”

The girl above is the hostess of the restaurant. She is supposed to be the eye candy that entices the people to take a seat.

We ordered and started chatting.

“I’ve learned to believe that the old-school Marxism you believe in can no longer win elections. The current government is the closest thing we’ll get. And they’re stuck,” I said.

“The Communists wouldn’t be stuck. Drachma overnight. Just like the finance minister admitted to having planned,” she answered.

“I totally agree with the ideal outcome. I totally want that to happen,” I said.

“So do you feel like a king here? Am I what you would want to be with? A starving university student who’s too shy to sell herself?”

“You seem to know more about it than that do. I was simply turned on by you. You know, you brought back the beauty of my youth,” I said.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I can no longer play you.”

“Play me?”

“We choose a victim every day or so. It’s so silly. Part of our communist rebellion against the oligarchs. Or against the people we think are trying to use our poverty to their advantage,” she said. “I fitbthe profile. Poor university student. And you fit the profile. An average tourist who comes to a country to take advantage of young ladies.”

“I’ve never thought of that. It would be easy to do though.”

“Unfortunately, you’re right.”

We started talking about the state of things and throwing out solutions. Before long, it was time to meet some relatives for dessert at Plaka.

Without a thought, we went tehre together. I introduced her as a friend. She was very sociable nd we all had a great night of earing, drinking, dancing, and talking.

She kissed me ever-so-softly as I went into the taxi waiting for me in front of my hotel to take me to the airport. I smiled. It had been so long since my university years. She waved at me and turned and started walking the other way. It had been a very interesting 18 hours.