Mailbox Baseball
When You Can’t Create Anything, at Least Destroy Something.
“The haunting fear that someone, somewhere, may be happy.”
Attributed to H.L. Mencken, originally about Puritans, it can be contemporaneously applied to the people who are intent on destroying our society.
When I was a teenager, certain hooligans I knew (not me, of course) played a game known as mailbox baseball. In this sport, Hooligan A recklessly drives a car dangerously close to a row of mailboxes while Misfit B sits on the passenger window ledge, hanging out of the car, smashing random mailboxes with a baseball bat.
It’s great fun (I’m told). Sometimes, though, you can get a bat to the face if your driver is going too fast or you underestimate the recoil of the mailbox. This pointless exposure to injury does not deter youthful idiots— in fact, it makes it that much more fun.
This is one outlet for hyped up adolescent boys who are unable to qualify for conventional sports, to blow off a little testosterone steam instead of sacking the quarterback. Many of us eventually evolve from this destructive urge and grow up to possess smashed mailboxes of our own. I count myself in this group. Having a smashed mailbox, that is.
Some people never advance from this phase of life and continue to wreck things because they can’t, or won’t, create anything of value. The primary practitioners of societal mailbox baseball today appear to be:
A. Woke, white, childless, AngryFeminist®, toady, scolding women, and;
B. Somalis.
The Somalis might have a plausible excuse, coming from a corrupt, dystopian hellhole where the only way to get ahead is to steal everything possible. America must look like an unguarded gold mine to people raised in this “system.” Even so, they appear to refuse to assimilate and instead treat our society as a personal bank account.
The AWFL’s don’t have any excuses. They are among the most pampered humans in all of history. Yet. . .
What both of those groups, and progressives, many immigrants, and Muslims in particular have in common is the desire to overtake something intact and functioning— our societal mailbox— and pummel it into a pile of steaming debris. So it will become equivalent to either the hellhole they left, or the hellhole they dream of creating.
Why don’t they stay in the original hellhole if their desire to live in a hellhole is the driving motivation? In the case of the Somalis Et al., I suspect that the motivation to remain is that there is so much more money to loot in the U.S.
And the AWFL’s?
Take this insufferable twat, Aftyn Behn, who ran for Tennessee’s 7th district, which encompasses Nashville, on the promise of ruining everything she hates— which was apparently everything— about the city. Fortunately, the voters saw it for what it was and rejected the idea. Apparently, the proletarians can’t recognize Progress when they see it.
What is it that drives certain people to break everything? One group wants to break our society, and the other wants to strip it until it collapses.
What is the AWFL’s urge to change a place where people are already happy with the way things work? Is it to make everyone as miserable as them?
Why can’t they behave like other naive adolescents and dream of acquiring an island somewhere and create the perfect society? Or go somewhere where people already enjoy the society they wish to inhabit.
I’ll answer that. It’s because they are miserable people who are envious of traditional gender roles that seem to make people happy. This drives them nuts. Also, they hate men, who, to their continuing irritation, are deeply embedded in the creation, and the sustaining, of our society.
So they dream of a society where empathetic females run everything, without noticing that they’ve already achieved it. Even though these angry women already run practically everything, they are still miserable, but it never occurs to them that the “old ways” might have lasted as long as they did because they worked.
Considering the recent revelations regarding widespread Somali fraud in Timmesota, and the ever-spreading AWFL fatigue among the normal population, one hopes that these thieves and Karens are starting to receive a bit of baseball-bat recoil to the teeth. Like young hoodlums underestimating the springiness of their postal targets, maybe—just maybe— these miscreants are about to get their teeth knocked out.
One can hope.