Category Archives: Sex

NEW COLUMN: The TV Tarts’ Reign Of Terror, Part 1

English, Feminism, Gender, Kids, Literature, Media, Propaganda, Sex, The Establishment

NEW COLUMN IS “The TV Tarts’ Reign Of Terror, Part 1.” (Yes, there’s more to come.) It’s currently on WND.COM and The Unz Review. All columns are archived on ilanamercer.com, under Weekly Column.

An excerpt:

The particular CNN segment I was watching concerned Fox News personality Tucker Carlson. It was meant to help terminate the controversial anchor’s career.

I recognized the sourpuss, dressed in marigold yellow, who was presiding over the seek-and-destroy mission, targeting the ultra-conservative Mr. Carlson.

She was no other than Poppy Harlow.

It transpires that years back, Carlson had routinely called into a Howard-Stern-like shock-jock radio show and made naughty comments, some about women. Women were “extremely primitive,” he had quipped.

To watch the countless, indistinguishable, ruthless, atavistic women empaneled on CNN, MSNBC, even Fox News—one cannot but agree as to the nature and caliber of the women privileged and elevated in our democracy, and by mass society, in general.

They’re certainly not women with the intellect and wit of a Margot Asquith—countess of Oxford, author and socialite (1864-1945). Would that women like Mrs. Asquith were permitted to put lesser “ladies” like CNN’s Ms. Harlow in their proper place.

When asked by American actress Jean Harlow how she pronounces her first name, Margot Asquith shot back, “The ‘t’ is silent, as in Harlow.”

Naturally, you’d have to have a facility with the English language to know what a “harlot” is.

You’d certainly need an education, as opposed to a degree, to recognize the next character referenced.

TV’s empaneled witches and their housebroken, domesticated boys are guided more by the spirit of Madame Defarge than by Lady Justice.

If parents saw to it that kids got an education, not merely a degree, the brats would know who Madam Defarge was.

But our uneducated ignoramuses no longer seek out the greatest literature ever. This is because the best books were penned by the pale, patriarchal penile people. Given this self-inflicted ignorance, few younger readers will know this most loathsome of literary icons, from “A Tale Of Two Cities” by Charles Dickens.

Madame Defarge is the bloodthirsty commoner, who sat knitting, as she watched the en masse public beheadings of innocent aristocrats (17,000 of them) in Paris, during the Reign of Terror, aka the French Revolution, whose symbol ought to be the guillotine. (Another 10,000 perished in prison sans due process.)

America’s modern-day Madam Defarges are the harridans who shrieked in vengeance on TV when a sentencing Judge, T. S. Ellis III, dared to cite Paul Manafort’s “otherwise blameless life.”

Manafort, formerly a Trump campaign adviser, will be jailed for seven-and-a-half years for non-violent “crimes” excavated by Grand Inquisitor Robert Mueller, and committed against that most wicked of government departments, the Internal Revenue Service. That a broken, frail, wheelchair-bound man might not die in jail enraged the wicked, pitiless witches of the networks.

Cheered on by our contemporary Madame Defarges, Manafort’s next sentencing Judge, an angry female, failed to limit her ambit to the application of the law, namely to sentencing. Instead, she lectured the defendant for a demeanor that displeased her, and for an inadequate display of contrition. Judge Amy Berman Jackson subjected a visibly broken Mr. Manafort to a vicious tongue-lashing. …

… READ THE REST.  NEW COLUMN IS “The TV Tarts’ Reign Of Terror, Part 1.” It’s currently on WND.COM and The Unz Review.

A US Victim Visa: Subsidizing & Rewarding Dodgy Behavior

Crime, IMMIGRATION, Prostitution, Sex

From Palm Beach State Attorney Dave Aronberg we learned today about a new and nauseating detail in our immigration system.

The detail was tucked into Aronberg’s self-aggrandizing presser about rescuing sex workers from human traffickers, or something.

“The federal government offers visas to victims who are foreign nationals if they cooperate, allowing them to remain in the country indefinitely.”

In this case, Chinese prostitutes illegally in the country. Only the best for the US:

New England Patriots owner Robert Kraft has been charged “with two misdemeanor counts of soliciting prostitution.” He is accused of “visit[ing] a Florida massage parlor for sex acts the night before and the morning of last month’s AFC championship game, authorities said Monday in documents charging him with two misdemeanor counts of soliciting prostitution.”

Trafficking probe that ensnared Robert Kraft began when inspector saw signs women lived at spa

Evidently, US immigration policy, among other philanthropic objectives, aims to make honest women out of prostitutes.

Aronberg steered a Monday news conference away from Kraft’s case to the larger issue of human trafficking. No human trafficking charges have been filed against Kraft, Haven or any of the other alleged customers, but at least one alleged operator is charged in Indian River County with trafficking.

MORE.

UPDATED (2/19): NEW COLUMN: Grammys: Great Porn, Maybe, But Music It Was NOT

Art, Celebrity, Critique, Music, Sex

NEW COLUMN is “Grammys: Great Porn, Maybe, But Music It Was NOT.” It’s now on WND.COM and The Unz Review. An excerpt:

I used to have some respect for Lady Gaga. With all her pretentious Yoko Onanisms, Stefani Germanotta, Gaga’s real name, is actually a hard-working and, at times, polished singer.

But to watch Gaga, at the 61st Grammy Awards, perform a number called “Shallow” was to endure an assault on the eyes and the ears.

Legs permanently splayed like an arthritic street walker, Gaga traipsed around catatonically, attempting to head-bang, but getting disoriented. Some things are best left to a macho, metal-head guy.

Gaga’s look was not a good one. But her sound, which is what counts here, was positively terrible. Yet, Gaga—lugging microphone and mount around like a geriatric with a walker—was a highlight in what was a pornographic, cacophonous extravaganza.

Aside the gorgeous Alicia Keys, host of the 2019 Grammys, who is talented and charming, and Dolly Parton, a consummate pro—the event showcased the gutter culture that is the American music scene. The country is truly in the musical sewer.

The petulant female artists, so proud of their seized power, showcased power, all right—but it was all in the hips, the pelvis, and in thrusts and twerks of the tush. Not one transcendent, inspiringly beautiful dance move did these throngs of crass stompers execute, on the pimped stage.

Janelle Monáe? The sum total of this artiste’s musical “talent” is simulating sex on stage. “Let the v-gina monologue,” she hissed venomously at her adoring, masochistic fans, while moving her nether regions to a base, atavistic beat. Indeed, in an orifice, Miss Monáe has found the right interlocutor.

Let us stipulate for the record that this is never about lyrics. Cardi B screaming that she “likes morning sex” but that nothing in this world does she love “more than checks” is not an issue.

Put it this way, if the greatest composer ever, Johann Sebastian Bach, set his divine, god-like cantatas to the saucy, naughty lyrics of Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales, would I decry his sublime composition as immoral? Don’t be daft. The music of J.S. Bach would still be sublime if it were set to Cardi B’s gutter language.

My point: Cardi B doesn’t make music. The category for which she and her sisters should be nominated, if I am being charitable, is street theater.

Incessant, asinine, genital-speak is one of the things that distinguishes these female artistes (as in “a person with artistic pretensions”) and makes them particularly repulsive. Do they not realize some things are best left veiled and mysterious?

Women of Monáe’s ilk are first to robotically protest the objectification of their sex, but are complicit in ensuring that The Act itself suffers the very same fate: sex has been made an object, a fashionable accessory, part of an empowering, emasculating life-style.

Screaming there was aplenty at Grammys No. 61. But good voices? None at all. Informed we were that the insipid Kacey Musgraves, a two-chord whiner, is what passes for country music, these days. …

… READ THE REST. NEW COLUMN, “Grammys: Great Porn, Maybe, But Music It Was NOT,” is now on WND.COM and The Unz Review

UPDATE (2/19/019):

Linda Ronstadt on modern country music:

I don’t listen to modern country music. I don’t care for it particularly. I like old country music, when it still came out of the country. What they call country music now is what I call Midwest mall-crawler music. You go into big-box stores and come out with huge pushcarts of things. It’s not an agrarian form anymore. When it comes out of the country, it’s not farmers or woodsmen, or whatever. It doesn’t make much sense. It’s just suburban music.