Egregious ideas: KMMK

A punk band acronymously denominated KMMK (Kellie Martin’s Muddy Kunt) performs weekly for hundreds of fervently adoring, shirtless fans. A B&W printout measuring 7’x7′ of Kellie Martin’s face (see below) is suspended on a metal frame during each set’s first fifteen minutes, then savagely socked, shredded, and thrown to the audience by the band’s frontman at the climax of their hit single, Punchr Fukn Fasin.

Effigy of KMMK
This is one among a variety of black-and-white effigies punched and dilaniated during every performance by KMMK. (I actually have no problem with Kellie Martin; if you can contrive a better phrase for KMMK, let me know.)

Shreds of each show’s printout retained by members of the audience who didn’t flee while doused with excrement egested by the band between sets will be signed by them in exchange for fellatio afterward.

Millennial in the Field

Perhaps the most mortifying character among the largely inane dramatis personae of Ridley Scott’s Prometheus was this bewhiskered, cephalically and facially tattooed geologist, who’d the edgy choler of an embittered teenager in the mid-’90s, navigational ineptitude of a toddler separated from its parent at a shopping mall, and a fauxhawk.

He’s still as discomfiting as flatulation at a public function, but less unrealistic than he was a decade ago because entomologist Brendan Morris exists, and he’s christened a Nicaraguan treehopper after Lady Gaga.

Quoth the overfed entomophile:

If there is going to be a Lady Gaga bug, it’s going to be a treehopper, because they have these crazy horns and a wacky fashion sense about them

Flamboyance wasn’t phenomenal before 1960 1975 1994 2005.

I love outrageous forms and colours. It blows my mind that a group that is roughly 40 million years old has so much diversity of form — diversity, I would argue, that we don’t see in any other family of insects.

Why? Wouldn’t one expect more diversity from a family of such enduring lineage?

‘The frontoclypeus, which is like the face, was shaped totally different.

A legitimate, literate scientist versed in his field’s lexicon might observe that this insect’s frontoclypeus is homologous to a face, and shaped differently.

I’ll assume that his co-author Christopher H. Dietrich authored their article concerning this species, the abstract of which conforms to their field’s clinical (if inelegant) jargon.

Which is the more characteristically Millennial trait: effusion or incompetence?

Response by Neocities to inquiry concerning thedonald.neocities.org

Date: Sun, 22 Mar 2020 01:33:35 +0000
From: Neocities Contact 
To: XXXXXXX@robertbuchanan.info
Subject: Re: [Neocities Contact]: thedonald.neocities.org

We didn't ban them. That's all I can tell you (we don't reveal site info as a policy).

On Fri, Mar 20, 2020 at 8:21 PM  wrote:

> current username: rbuchanan
>
> What happened to thedonald.neocities.org?
>

That satisfies my limited curiosity for this subject…

Third-wave feminism: exhibit #4 – Translating Amy Horton

For several years, I’ve catalogued inane and insufferable slang in the Douche-English Dictionary, but I never rendered extenuative to forthcoming text…until now!!

I’m Scared That I No Longer Have The Ability To Be Emotionally Available Attractive to Worthwhile Men

I’ve been single for a long time, so it’s easy to avoid emotional vulnerability. Now I’m not sure I can even go there anymore-it’s much easier to go about my life without peeling away the layers. If I’m open, that means I can be hurt, and I’m really trying to avoid that.

I’ve been single and sexually dissolute for years, so I’m hardened against any capacity for emotional vulnerability. Now I’m not sure I can even establish a sane relationship-it’s much easier to go about my life without improving myself. If I’m rational and committed, that means I can be hurt, and I’m really trying to avoid the labor that personal progress entails.

I have too many heart scars.

At some point, I feel like I have to say enough is enough. I need a pause from all the heartache and confusion. It’s been a long break and I’m not ready to end it. Maybe it’ll stretch on indefinitely, I don’t know. All I know is I have accumulated plenty of heartache already.

I have too much emotional baggage.

At some point, I feel like I have to feign exhaustion with relational turmoil while maintaining a profligate lifestyle. I need a psychotherapist. It’s been a long string of sleazy men and I’m not ready to withdraw from the dating market. Maybe it’ll stretch on indefinitely, I don’t know. All I know is I have accumulated plenty of personality disorders and venereal diseases already.

I always get burned, so why bother?

I’m trying to make better choices about love but I still get hurt every time I put myself out there. It makes me cynical and jaded about even trying. I don’t feel like there’s any point-my life is perfectly happy and pleasant without romance.

I’m always discarded by sportive men; what am I doing?

I’m trying to understand why I only select men who sexually exploit, then drop me, but I still get hurt whenever I wanton. It makes me cynical and jaded about being an oblivious slut. I don’t feel like there’s any point-my life is perfectly miserable because I don’t understand the concept of romance.

I’m tired of the drama.

No matter what, dating and relationships bring complication into my life. I find that when I’m single, I have more energy and less stress and misery. Until I meet someone who won’t bring unnecessary chaos and conflict, I’m not willing or able to open up my heart.

I’m tired of drama that doesn’t benefit me.

No matter what, dating and fugitive relationships to which I’m accustomed bring complication into my life. I find that when I’m single, I have more energy to squander on frivolous authorship and mediocre sex. Until I seek out someone who isn’t merely philandering, I’m not willing or able to exercise any discernment when browsing Tinder.

I don’t trust men at all anymore.

I’ve definitely had a few wonderful experiences but unfortunately, the bad always seem to outweigh the good. I don’t trust guys because they’re reckless with my heart most of the time. They don’t value or appreciate me enough.

I don’t trust men at all anymore because I don’t understand them or myself.

I’ve definitely had a few wonderful experiences among the scores I’ve received, but unfortunately, the bad always seem to outweigh the good. I don’t trust guys because the callous cads who I favor exclusively are entirely inconsiderate of a hussy’s feelings. They don’t value or appreciate me enough because they know I’m too loose to respect or retain.

I feel safer keeping guys in the friend zone.

I finally have a good group of male friends and I truly appreciate them. They allow me to get close to them and understand them better without any of the pressure or tension that goes along with dating. There are no emotional stakes and I like that.

I feel safer keeping guys in the friend zone.

I finally have a good group of gay, ugly and fawning male friends and I truly appreciate how exhaustively I can exploit them. They allow me to work them like a punch press and understand who I wouldn’t bed if my life depended on it without any of the pressure or tension that goes along with dating. There are no emotional stakes because their sexual market value is even lower than mine, and I like that.

I’ve created too many walls.

My walls have only grown stronger and taller with time. I think that I understand my hang-ups and fears better now but that doesn’t mean I’m over them. It’s simply too risky to let them down and let yet another undeserving man into my deepest darkest recesses.

I’ve avoided commitment for as long as I’ve been alive.

My inability to commit has only grown stronger and weirder with time. I think that I understand my hang-ups and fears better now but that doesn’t mean I accept them. It’s simply too terrifying to permit a man with some modicum of integrity into the imagined depths of my shallow psyche.

I attempt vulnerability and literally can’t make it happen.

Something deep within me stops me from going there and I’m not sure how to get rid of that blockage. I used to at least be able to access my emotional depths if I really wanted to do so. Now that feels virtually impossible.

I can’t explore a vulnerability that was extinguished decades ago by my promiscuity.

Years of empty copulation and acokoinonia have rendered me sexually insensible and I’m not sure how to resolve that emotional deficiency. I used to at least imagine that I was profound and sensitive if I really wanted to do so. Now that feels virtually impossible.

I don’t even know how to let go at this point.

My desire to protect myself from harm has taken over. Ironically, I’ve learned to face my fears in every other area of my life. It’s only love and dating where I seize up and defend my feelings from any possibility of hurt.

I don’t even know how act like a human being.

My desire to protect myself from harm has taken over. Ironically, I’ve learned to evade my fears in every other area of my life. It’s only love and dating where I seize up and deride anyone who expects me to comport myself with tact and accountability.

I have way too much anxiety when it comes to love.

It’s the one area where I haven’t been able to attack my fears and get over them. I’m still too afraid of getting my heart broken because I’m very sensitive and I know how it ruins me every single time. I’m not willing to experience that again.

I have way too much anxiety when it comes to common sense.

It’s one of several areas where I haven’t been able to introspect and rationally assess my self-destructive behavior. I’m still too afraid of getting my heart broken because I’m very solipsistic and I know how my ossified, dysfunctional propensities ruin my unrealistic expectations every single time. I’m not willing to consider my own faults or horrendous taste in men.

I literally cannot bring myself to go there.

It ain’t happening. I preach openness and emotional vulnerability to other people but I’m a huge hypocrite. I want to be able to do it and I simply can’t. It’s a problem and I need to do some serious work if I’m ever going to open up again.

I cannot explore or express emotions that I don’t feel.

It ain’t happening. I preach openness and emotional vulnerability to other people but I’m a huge hypocrite. I want to be able to do it and I simply can’t. It’s a problem and I need to actually shoulder some responsibility and improve my M.O. if I’m ever going to feel anything.

I have an easier life when I feel emotionally safe.

I have an amazing life and, honestly, if not having deep emotional intimacy with a man is the only drawback, that’s not so awful. I never fight with anyone and I never cry. Yes, I want love, but I’m willing to compromise to keep my sanity.

I’d like to believe that I have an easier life without substantive expectations or objectives.

I have an abysmal life as the author of columns that showcase my pathologies and, honestly, if not having deep emotional intimacy with a man is the only drawback, that’s godawful. I never fight with anyone because I live in solitude, and I only cry when I contemplate that desolation. Yes, I want love, but I’m willing to settle for eventual spinsterhood because I don’t know how to pursue any recourse.

I think I’m a nicer person when I’m protecting myself.

Someday I hope I can be raw and dark and dirty with a partner and have them accept me as I am. Honestly, though, I think that when I am keeping myself safe, I tend to be a better human. I don’t lash out or react out of fear and anxiety.

I think I’m a nice person.

Someday I hope I can be raw and dark and dirty with a subservient partner and have them accept me as I am. Honestly, though, I think that when I am keeping myself safe, I tend to be less embarrassing. I don’t lash out or react out of fear and anxiety.

I am starting to believe that emotional intimacy is overrated.

I used to think that it was everything I wanted but I’m realizing that I have a lot more going on. I’m working on developing my sense of self, my career, and the way I relate to everyone around me. It feels pretty good.

I am desperate to believe that emotional intimacy is overrated.

I still think that it’s everything I need, but I’m realizing that I either can’t attain it or can’t be bothered to prosecute the self-improvement it would necessitate. I’m working on developing my egocentrism, risible career, and the way I constantly compare my life to those of everyone around me. It feels wretched.

I like the idea of deep love but I’ve never had it.

I’ve been in a lot of relationships, but not one of them was right even if I thought it was at the time. I didn’t know how to truly love deeply and neither did any of my exes. I couldn’t attract real emotional intimacy because I didn’t know what it was.

I like an artificial conception of deep love but I’ve never had it.

I’ve been in a few legitimate relationships and over a hundred one-night stands, but I opted for the latter over the former because they were fun and undemanding. I didn’t know how to truly love deeply and I need to believe that my exes didn’t either. I’ve never attracted real emotional intimacy because I don’t know what it is.

I don’t think I’ll ever meet the right man for me.

Yes, this sounds horribly depressing, but I don’t know if I believe he’s out there. I’ve been wrong so many times that I don’t trust my judgment and I’m tired of trying to be emotionally open with guys who leave me stranded high and dry. Maybe I have to accept that I’m on my own.

I don’t think I’ll ever meet the right man for me.

Yes, this sounds horribly depressing, but I don’t know if I believe he’s out there. I’ve been wrong so many times that I don’t trust my judgment and I’m tired of trying to be emotionally open with guys who leave me stranded high and dry. Maybe I have to accept that my judgment is dreadful, my expectations are absurd and my perceived SMV is grossly overinflated.

I could translate this slattern’s column regularly!

Known for basketball skill

These opening paragraphs from Wikipedia’s characteristic article on Gianna Bryant were snapped before one of the subliterate pederasts who govern such indispensable content notices that it reads like a report penned by a dunce in second grade:

Between the moment that Kobe Bryant faked his death to the very second this post was published, thirty revisions to that article have been implemented, and that’s the present result. Never mind its hilarious solecisms and punctuational abuses; she’s known for basketball skill (also, her father’s a celebrity).

Without Wikipedia, I would’ve never read that immortal quote:

Bryant played basketball, with commentators reported that she was highly skilled, even though she was only a child.

Update: That mess was mercifully deleted and its link redirected to Kobe Bryant’s article hours later.

Where Be JBB & Dr. D?

Hmmmm…

Date: Fri, 27 Dec 2019 13:13:23 -0600
From: Robert Buchanan <**********@robertbuchanan.info>
To: **********@takimag.com
Subject: JBB and Dr. D
Message-ID: <20191227191323.GA3052@Hooper>
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii
Content-Disposition: inline
User-Agent: Mutt/1.5.23 (2014-03-12)

To the editors,

Why have Joe Bob Briggs and Theo Dalrymple been excised from Takimag's masthead? Dr. Daniels is is still contributing hebdomadal articles.

Alas…

Date: Fri, 27 Dec 2019 14:52:42 -0500
From: Mail Delivery System 
To: **********@robertbuchanan.info
Subject: Mail delivery failed: returning message to sender

[-- Attachment #1 --]
[-- Type: text/plain, Encoding: 7bit, Size: 0.3K --]

This message was created automatically by mail delivery software.

A message that you sent could not be delivered to one or more of its recipients. This is a permanent error. The following address(es) failed:

  **********@takimag.com
    all hosts for 'takimag.com' have been failing for a long time (and retry time not reached)

[-- Attachment #2 --]
[-- Type: message/delivery-status, Encoding: 7bit, Size: 0.1K --]

Reporting-MTA: dns; d609c.dimedns.com

Action: failed
Final-Recipient: rfc822;**********@takimag.com
Status: 5.0.0

[-- Attachment #3 --]
[-- Type: message/rfc822, Encoding: 7bit, Size: 0.8K --]

Date: Fri, 27 Dec 2019 13:13:23 -0600
From: Robert Buchanan <**********@robertbuchanan.info>
To: **********@takimag.com
Subject: JBB and Dr. D
User-Agent: Mutt/1.5.23 (2014-03-12)

To the editors,

Why have Joe Bob Briggs and Theo Dalrymple been excised from Takimag's masthead? Dr. Daniels is is still contributing hebdomadal articles.

Thence, I attempted to implicitly pay for this information via my paltry, annual donation via PayPal:

However…

Date: Mon, 30 Dec 2019 09:03:35 +0000
From: Mandolyna Theodoracopulos <**********@takimag.com>
To: **********@gmail.com
Subject: Donation
X-Mailer: Apple Mail (2.3445.104.11)

Thank you for donating to Taki’s Magazine.
We appreciate your support.



Mandolyna Theodoracopulos
Editor-in-Chief

Nuts! Yet not a week later, the masthead was updated:

Whew! This publication’s least popular contributor happens to be my preferent.

Regrettably, Joe Bob (whose last article was published well over a month ago) may have quietly terminated his column at Takimag.

Star Wars: Nexus of Failure

A recent exchange in Gab:

Naturally, Rivers didn’t respond: why gainsay a solid argument that nobody read? After all, his entire modus operandi is to attract attention (and subsequent subscriptions) by paraphrasing what his readers already know with scant if any elaboration. Much of his initial contention is correct (though the notion that Star Wars was exclusively intended for or enjoyed by white males is pure poppycock), but its querulence and his response once again substantiate that the naysayers of Disney Wars have done nothing to significantly oppose it or the noxious trends it represents.

My calculated distance from most sects of the dissident right was measured equivalent to that from mainstream conservatives, and for the same reasons: most of them are either conformable, culturally nescient incompetents who achieve nothing of worth, or controlled opposition bought with our elites’ pocket change. Whether the general public discountenances them offensive or otherwise unacceptable is as pissant as any other consensus. In the Anglosphere, lumpen, psychotic and volatile leftist coalitions are sustained at exorbitant expense and exhaustive effort by those same elites simply to maintain a corrupt status quo. That fissiparous, squabblingly internecine rightists are scarcely more united than those dupes bodes ill for the future of their nations.

Nobody possessing an I.Q. exceeding room temperature expected features in this franchise helmed by Abrams (an uninspired, perpetually propagandistic fortunate son) or Johnson (a twee mediocrity) to be at all good. Any sensible theatergoer who suffered their first ten minutes of Jar Jar Binks twenty years ago realized then that Return of the Jedi was the last episode of this series that was worth watching. Lucas ruined Wars years before Abrams, Johnson and Kathleen Kennedy’s coven of cat ladies conjointly debased it and cost Disney untold fortunes. (That a movie concerning the early exploits of Han Solo would be misdirected by godforsaken Ron Howard, then rightly flop would’ve been unimaginable to those of us who adored Lucas’s world in our formative years!)

Conceit is the only reason why critics of any political persuasion pay money to view Disney’s latest vitiation of what was once the greatest phenomenon of popular culture. They arrive early to their local theater to sit through this dreck, then produce scathing textual or video critiques to feed their egos. I haven’t seen one of these pictures, and certainly wouldn’t condescend to pay for them. Rivers’ declamation was easily presaged by The Force Awakens, wherein Solo was dispatched and the unappealing leads were cast to represent a propagandistic dyad embodied by so many televised news anchors. If anything, rightists who pay money to view this trash should be ashamed of themselves — if not for viewing pictures in which most of the original heroes are senselessly slain or stultified, then for patronizing a rapacious and obdurate corporation that coerces its terminated employees to train their inept foreign replacements.

Lucas, Kasdan, Kershner, and their collaborators wanted boys and young men to dream of adventure, spiritual fulfillment and a righteous republicanism; Bob Iger and his minions only seek to crush those dreams and indoctrinate their most impressionable patrons with fecklessly recycled concepts, pedestrian craftsmanship, bloated productions, thematic insipidity and a hopeless poverty of invention. However, those who bemoan this for years with periodic jeremiads have for hits and hubris chosen to overlook what’s obvious. If you want Luke, Leia, Han, Chewie, the droids, Lando, et al. — you can have them any time! Whoever hasn’t the trilogy’s original theatrical cuts on VHS or DVD can obtain video files, or DVD or Blu-ray images of Harmy’s Despecialized Edition. Scores of novels based on the films have been penned and published since 1976, and many of these — Alan Dean Foster’s adaptation of A New Hope and his original Splinter of the Mind’s Eye, a trilogy of Han Solo Adventures, and Timothy Zahn’s Heir to the Empire/Thrawn trilogy — are as enjoyable as any popularly marketed pop novels. That so many fans submit to Disney’s morbidly revolting perversion of this property rather than disregard such drivel to concentrate on its far more engaging, imaginative expanded universe (or any number of other properties) only confirms that the fretful defeatist, ever more prominent and clamant among boomers, Xers and millennials, would rather whine than act constructively.

Further, sweeping anti-Semitism in this instance can’t survive even cursory examination. Nobody can reasonably contest that Iger, Abrams, Shearmur and the rest share a common, destructive sociopolitical agenda, and that it’s partially meditated to quell an unhinged collective neurosis. Nevertheless, this notion that “Jews destroyed Star Wars” is as singularly risible as enduring, since most of the “creatives” in this endeavor are gentiles, and this series wouldn’t have attained its greatness without Jews. How do these people neglect how Irvin Kershner, selected by Lucas to direct The Empire Strikes Back on the strength of Eyes of Laura Mars, produced the rare exceeding sequel with a slick yet deliberate emulation of Lucas’s idiom? How do they disregard the histrionic contributions of Harrison Ford, Frank Oz and especially Carrie Fisher, all of whom are partially Ashkenazic? Finally, Zahn’s aforementioned novels demonstrate a comprehensive grasp of Lucas’s spiritual and political themes with a complexity that the filmmaker failed to similarly dilate in his prequels. As usual, we can only conclude that the institutional problem inheres not in “Jews,” but in “those Jews.”

Progressives cant fatuously of “white male fragility,” exhibited not in the strain but tone of widespread reprehension against Disney’s maliciously substandard products, and the overtly recreant, peevish or tearful comportment of public figures such as Jordan Peterson, Kevin Smith, Christopher Cantwell, Michael Moore, Matt Forney and many others. (Over 1K predominantly white disputants wept pettishly at Ian Miles Cheong for this objective criticism of Peterson’s ludicrously lachrymose behavior regarding mean tweets during an interview.) Be it bigotry, illiberality, thuggishness, calumny or intemperance, progressives regularly indulge in every vice or frailty that they impute to others. Nobody is as petulantly “fragile” as progressives, who can’t cope with even the insinuation of dissent from their dogmas, bleat over fantasies such as “hate speech” and contemporary “fascism” or “white supremacy,” and demand “safe spaces” hermetically free from counterargument and heterodoxy. If white, right-wing males are emotionally fragile (and they often are), then a fortiori are progressives doubly so.

In the course of the past 130+ years, hundreds of thousands of features and shorts have been produced. At least 50,000 of French, American, Japanese, British, Korean, Italian, German, Russian, Iranian, Austrian, etc. provenance are worth watching. Perhaps 8,000 of them are masterworks. For whoever’s read, heard and seen their fill of Star Wars, as many as 200 successfully marketed alternatives in the genres of science fiction, fantasy and space opera are readily available, and many more obscure, akin works are waiting to be rediscovered. With this overplus of options available via books, videocassettes, optical discs and streaming services, one can be certain that nobody needs Star Wars so much as Disney needs them to perpetuate their abuse of oligarchical power.

Those addicted to their geeky furor would be wisely counseled to stop whining, withdraw from what’s left of mainstream popular culture, and seek fictions that reflect, affirm and enlarge on their values, culture and society.

Herbalife and OnePoll Partner to Feed You Bullshit

Yet another survey as biased in execution as results emerges from a private, foreign firm specializing in gainful disinformation:

Survey: More Americans Eating Less Meat, Opting For Plant-Based Options Instead
by Ben Renner

“New research shows “flexitarian” diet growing in popularity as more adults prefer to eat meat only on occasion.”

Starving gruesomely to emaciation in your suburb or city of the first world, baizuo? Flexitarianism will save your life by permitting you to ration yourself essential nutriments, only reducing you to mere etiolation!

“NEW YORK — Cheeseburgers, steaks, and hot dogs are synonymous with American cuisine, or at least they were at one time.”

Renner cuts to the chase, immediately confirming his professionalism by opining baselessly.

“According to a new survey of 2,000 Americans, if these dishes are a common part of your diet, you’re now in the minority. Less than half (47%) of the survey’s respondents said meat is a major part of their diet.”

Not an abject sap, I’m minded to question information deficiently detailed in this article. Where were a majority of these respondents located? Were American citizens in every state or most states canvassed proportionally? What’s the specific range of their ages? How many of them reside in metropolitan areas, and in which districts thereof?

This old ruse scarcely illudes anyone anymore: feed baizuo statistics about baizuo.

“The survey, commissioned by Herbalife Nutrition, found that many Americans (23%) are adopting a ‘flexitarian’ approach to eating. This means eating mostly vegetarian foods with the occasional inclusion of meat. Another 18% of respondents said they were fully vegetarian.”

Gallup also skews their polls, but here’s another they’ve produced just a few months ago asserting that “5% of U.S. adults consider themselves to be vegetarian.” Furthermore, it predicates:

“Though plant-based diets and meat alternatives have been featured in some recent high-profile forums, including the United Nations and Democratic presidential debates, and are becoming a staple even on fast food restaurant menus, the percentage of vegetarians has remained stable over the past two decades. A 1999 Gallup survey that asked the same question found that 6% of Americans identified themselves as vegetarian.”

That’s quite a discrepancy, so why should this poll be at all rated reliable?

“So, what’s fueling this shift in Americans’ eating habits?”

Widespread dysgenics spanning four generations that have engendered plummeting IQs and attendant credulity.

“Among survey participants, flexitarians were the most likely group to say their food choices stemmed from trying to be more environmentally friendly (40%) or ethical (31%).”

Slavishly trendy, baizuo still immediately believe everything their teevees and pundits feed them — forever Boomerist cattle to their trough. Ugh! Of course, the overharvest that veganism, vegetarianism and “flexitarianism” compels is hardly sustainable, and the unintentional mass slaughter of animals eventuating from such harvests exceeds that of any abbatoir, but so long as baizuo feel righteous — and especially supercilious in their unblemished, imaginary integrity — what else matters?

“Young people are also a factor; 36% of surveyed flexitarians said they adopted their new diet because their children encouraged them to do so.”

I won’t read anything more repugnant this month. If you’re actually changing your dietary habits at the advice of your glaringly inscient, imbecile offspring, you’ve failed as a parent and a human.

“Even among those still regularly eating meat, the survey shows that more Americans than ever are willing to experiment with more plant-based food sources. In all, 71% of respondents expressed this sentiment.”

How many of them were only humoring obtrusive pollsters? Given the evidence above, this percentage is as improbable to credibly relate such a majority’s inclination as any other.

“But, what about protein? For so many of us, meat is our primary source of protein, but the results of the survey make it clear there are plenty of other ways to build muscle.”

Sure, you can also victual eggs. Without consumption of meat, one omits from their diet thirty to fifty essential nutrients that can’t be otherwise obtained.

Also, who permits these doltish hacks to initiate a sentence with a punctuated conjunction? It’s the worst common solecism known to me. Just read it aloud.

Among survey participants not regularly eating meat, 65% get most of their protein from shakes and protein bars,

To live this way is to entertain supreme malnutrition. Whenever you publicly observe some gaunt, slumped, balding, barbate, misshapen goon grimacing at his iPhone or purchasing his weekly surplusage of 400+ fruits and vegetables, you can wager reliably that his protein’s derived from some saccharine swill.

“and 56% just eat other foods known to carry lots of protein like rice,

Now this article veers into pure falsehood. I love rice, but it never contains “lots of protein.”

“beans,

Why not just consume a daily allotment of plaster, if you’ve such contempt for your digestive tract?

“and soy.”

Of course! Diurnal consumption of every baizuo’s favorite protein can nearly castrate preteen boys and ensure in men enervation for dangerously low testosterone. Thanks, but some of us still expect a functioning libido, penile tumescence and procreation.

“‘Protein is an important component of every cell in the body, helping to support healthy bones, muscles and organs,’ says Susan Bowerman, senior director of Nutrition Education and Training at Herbalife Nutrition, in a statement. ‘So whether you obtain your protein from shakes, bars, animals or plants, your focus should be on the quality of the source, to help ensure your body is receiving maximum benefit'”

She can’t help but overstate by anteriority the nutritional prominence of shakes and bars. After all, Herbalife doesn’t raise cattle, and needs to shift those units!

Get it?

“Generationally speaking, millennials are the most likely age group to try out more plant-based foods,

That’s to be expected from the most ignorant generation of dupes the developed world has ever beheld.

“but across all ages more people than ever before are open to the idea.”

Oh, no overestimated percentage noting that millennials represent only 200% of all vegetarians?

“Interestingly, the survey also noted that Americans living in the West (20%) and Northeast (19%) are the most likely to frequently eat “meatless” meat.

These numbers are even more ludicrously distorted than those precedent, especially when collated. “18% of respondents [in the U.S.] said they were fully vegetarian,” but 19% of northeasterners are most disposed to eat faux flesh? If vegetarians represent 18% of the population, wouldn’t that percentage skew higher in leftist regions, where greater numbers of vegetarians are indisputably concentrated? As corporate propaganda comes, this is as sloppy as most.

“Individuals from those areas were also found to be the most open to trying plant-based foods as well (51% in the West, 55% in the Northeast).”

Yet precisely how are “plant-based foods” defined? Do these include salads, perhaps a regularly munched apple or pear?

“It’s clear that meatless meat is here to stay, with 70% of all respondents stating they believe it will continue to grow in popularity moving forward.”

We’re supposed to believe that a significant majority replied to the question of sham meat’s future popularity not with an insouciant, “Oh, I don’t know,” but positive affirmation? Sure.

“Of course, there will always be some resistant to change.

That fatuous, lordly insinuation is galling enough, but the statement is true: plenty of people, in this instance an overwhelming majority, are resistant to imprudent, unhealthy, asinine trends.

“For example, 16% of respondents said they “never” eat meatless meat.

That’s almost certainly false. I personally know only two people who’ve sampled it, both only once.

“Perhaps, though, these respondents are so hesitant because they don’t know what is inside meatless meat. Less than half of respondents (45%) knew that meatless meat usually contains soy, and only 41% knew that wheat gluten is another common ingredient.”

If so, those hitherto unaware would likely be even less apt!

“In fact, only 55% of respondents knew that meatless meat is intended to taste just like real meat. Puzzlingly, 38% incorrectly said meatless meat is grown in a lab.”

Not “puzzlingly,” but “mendaciously,” these are teetotal fabrications purposed to image for typically moronic baizuo some construct of whoever hasn’t embraced bogus beef — their mean grandfather or Richard Spencer salivating over a hamburger. “Just envision the stupid Natzees, too dumb to know that meatless meat isn’t supposed to taste like meat! If they’re so dumb, you must be real, real smart!”

“The survey was conducted by OnePoll.”

Nota bene: OnePoll‘s a British subsidiary of South West News Service whose market research consists primarily of online survey. They’ve only expanded their research to poll American, French, German, Italian and Spanish respondents in the past few years, and only do so via an iPhone app. So in light of the firm’s provenance (after Australia, the second most vegan country worldwide), the demographics who most commonly use the hardware by which they poll, Herbalife’s obviously emporeutic imperatives and the contrariety between the figures of this survey and those more reputable, as well as others which are blatantly absurd, I can’t help but speculate that this surreptitious promotion of cheap products and a slave’s diet is no more convincing than artful in its artifice.

Cursory Diversion

Confabulating telephonically last night with sweet Annusya, caprice compelled me to read with her a quartet of short chapters from Voltaire’s Philosophical Dictionary. Tux Commander is my preferred file manager in X11, and the means by which I access most files directly. For my inattention, it was still configured to display text files with its internal viewer, which is nice but inadequate for want of textual search. Why I hadn’t months, even a year theretofore reconfigured it is beyond me, but as an expedient while Annusya received a copy of the file, I tapped F4 to invoke the editor and promptly locate the first of those four chapters.

Somehow, I’d forgotten in the intervening years since I last perused text with an editor that most salient of many reasons why pagers are preferable to editors for mere perusal — namely, Leafpad‘s cursor arrested the eye, beckoning me to type:

Anyhow, I later reconfigured Tux Commander to view all files with less via LXTerminal:

Much better!