Purge and Cleanse, No Loose Ends

It’s a tradition ’round these parts (and by “these parts” I mean my desktop, comfy chair, and rum bottle) to end December by cleaning house of interesting bits and pieces I didn’t get to use during the year. Normally, this housecleaning consists of unused back-and-forths with journalists and academics. But this year’s different: I had no such exchanges. This year, practically everyone I reached out to would only speak off-the-record.

I attribute this to the fact that 2022 was the year in which talentless predatory hacks like Taylor Lorenz and Felicia Sonmez scanned their colleagues’ tweets for cancellation material. So journalists got cold feet about genially corresponding with a guy like me, at least publicly. Privately, they’re fine. They know I’m not nearly as scary as my Wikipedia page implies.

But to keep the tradition alive, here are a few nuggets I couldn’t use in 2022.

A Vox on All Your Houses
I truly regretted not being able to work this one in, as it combines my hatred of “movies will change the culture” cons with my love of getting the last laugh.

So there’s this white separatist moron and videogamer (so very unique) named Theodore Beale who blogs as “Vox Day.” And apparently he has lots of followers, because he’s the guy who’s gonna lead whites to freedom and establish a “white homeland” in the U.S. (hopefully Maine, because that would really piss off Stephen King).

Beale’s a low-IQ nut who gets by on being “based,” because that’s all his followers demand.

I came across Beale in 2018 when I wrote a piece about how, with race and gender off the table, faux-edgy comedians resort to lewd jokes about children because it’s the only shocking thing the left still allows. Based on this (and nothing more), Beale decided that I must be hiding a secret list of Hollywood pedophiles (wotta sleuth!). He demanded that I reveal the list: “Cole knows the names! Why won’t he publish them?”

It was a bafflingly absurd accusation, because it had no basis beyond that one column about comedy. But his acolytes rallied around him, which brings us to…

In 2022 Beale told his followers to send him money because he was going to make a movie that would change the culture! A Marvel-style superhero film titled Rebel’s Run about an anti-woke Confederate-flag-wearing superheroine who fights leftists. And Beale raised a million bucks from his lemmings. Then he handed that cool mil to a based Aryan “crypto trader” named Wolfgramm to hold in escrow, and the crypto bro spent every cent of it on himself.

Every single thing about that crypto guy was fake, and even the smallest due diligence would’ve exposed him. But Beale didn’t do any diligence. He just handed over the money and poof, a million bucks gone.

Doing his best “falconer from The Simpsons” bit, Beale confessed to his fans, “I wouldn’t count on us getting that money back.”

The lesson? Smarts matter. A guy who’s dumb about politics will be dumb about other things, like money-managing.

An odd quirk of far-rightists: They’re the only people who talk about IQ, but when it comes right down to it, they’re no different from the blacks who gave their dough to Shaun King and the BLM Shaniquas who splurged on a mansion. Wait, they are different: King and BLM profited directly. Beale was given money and lost it because he’s dumber than a BLM black. He was a brainless middleman in the con; he didn’t steal the money—he gave it to the guy who did. That makes him worse than Ben Shapiro. Shapiro at least profits from his cons.

Plus, Beale proved why that “white homeland” thing can’t work.

Apparently, you’re still gonna need Jews to manage your money.

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