The consensual non-consent election
Brats just want to be tamed
Last week, tens of millions of Straight White Men cast their ballots with one message: they’re tired of our shit!—and I love it. Good job, boys; you passed the test! No tears here. It’s called a “shit test” for a reason: the “resistance” is all kabuki. You don’t ask permission to go in for the kiss; you just make a move. And this time, you got it right. We’re all going to Mars. This concludes the Gay Race Communism Simulation Show.
What, you thought Brat Summer was real? The brats weren’t crying out for intrauterine insemination by Nibble Nubbins—they wanted bratwurst, baby. The brat… 🥥Exists In The Context 🌴 of a symbiotic dance as old as time. Her sassy provocations, her cheeky little jabs? They’re nothing without the tamer to meet her head-on, with a steady hand on the small of her back, grounding her with just enough restraint.
Did you trust the plan, anon? The brat’s teasing, her defiance—it’s a tension seeking something solid to push against. She needs that unyielding presence to ground her restlessness, to let her push until she feels that edge. And the tamer? He’s the anchor keeping her in orbit, balancing that boundless spirit with a discipline she secretly craves. OH, OH GOD. I'M COOOOOMING!
I apologize; sportsball isn’t my thing. While Fanduel Americans get their testosterone fix from a big team win, I get mine from politics. I’ve been walking on sunshine since Wednesday, but started the week with a bleak prediction of a narrow Kamala win. Where did my analysis go wrong? I abandoned my own libidinal instincts for someone else’s femdom fantasy, a kink that got walloped in the free marketplace of fetishes.
1. Private truths, public lies
Although my note correctly called bullshit on the “shy Kamala voter” idea, I overindexed on the assumption that vocally pro-Kamala men weren’t just telling women what they wanted to hear, only to pick Trump in the privacy of the voting booth. Zero HP Lovecraft captured this viewpoint of the cowed white male in his unusually personal piece, “An Open Letter To Open-Minded Harris Voters”:
I am a straight white man. If you were to meet me in person, you would probably guess that I am one of you. It’s entirely possible that you know me. I might be your coworker. I might be an old friend, perhaps I’ve even cooked dinner for you. But despite the fact that you know me, you really don’t know me at all, and the truth is you never cared to. It’s a funny little irony, but if I don’t “come out” as a right winger to you, you assume I am on the blue team. And I know from experience that you will treat me very badly if you start to suspect I’m on the red team, which is why I keep my head down.
I remember a news clip (now impossible to find) where a foreign reporter searched in vain for Trump supporters among the young men at Trump’s alma mater, UPenn. Even at the frat houses, every interviewee gave ambivalent or evasive answers, and the video ended with one brother shutting the door in the reporter’s face after being asked, “Who will you vote for?” His reply: “You’ll see tomorrow.”
While conventional polls struggled to capture pro-Trump sentiment, the Frenchman Fredi9999 (known for his heavy Trump bets on Polymarket) commissioned surveys to validate his wagers. His approach used the “neighbor effect”, asking respondents who they thought their neighbors would vote for. Like sublimated sexual desires, these hidden preferences surfaced indirectly, filtered through the anonymity of others.
2. The triumph of multiracial whiteness
In fake and gay social science departments, members of so-called “marginalized communities” who reject identity-based appeals are labeled as embracing “multiracial whiteness” (MW). Eric Kaufmann’s Whiteshift and Castizo Futurism are convergently evolved memes, both concluding that majority, or “white” identity is malleable, mutating to resist DMV ladies’ attempts at voter triangulation.
Hispanics and Asians shifted hard for Trump, validating some version of a MW future. By 2024, the “very fine people” that voted for Trump in 2024 were notably beiger than the very fair people who backed him in 2016. The delicious irony of this reversal is best personified by Richard Spencer, now a White Dude for Kamala, railing against the “Asian prostitutes and homosexuals”1 cheering for Trump.
3. A massive thrust of masculine energy
The “woman” identity, despite being less fake and gay than American racial categories, also failed to deliver votes for Harris at the expected rate. But the defining story of the 2024 Election has already crystallized: a massive thrust of masculine energy. Nothing embodied this shift better than Navy SEAL Robert O’Neill’s primal declaration that Gen Z, pro-Harris, so-called “men” should be his concubines.
Here, the election’s defining meme takes shape through sun and steel—a harem of professional, middle-class striver sissies, subjugated to serve their chud overlords, as if Sparta itself had risen from the ruins of American carnage. What, you thought Brat Summer was real? This is no coy Afghan dance; it’s the ageless ritual of conquest, where greater men train their lessers to yield to the discipline of the bratwurst.
In public, these twinks pouted for some safe corner of Gay Race Communism. But behind the curtain of the voting booth, did they yearn to pull the lever for something older, something harder? The tamer holds firm as the brat meets the edge he’s been chasing. It’s not cruelty but a ruthless care that shapes, that steadies, that subdues. And in that dance, both leave satisfied, each having claimed what he craved.
Based on Jeremy Carl’s post, which singles out Tiffany Fong, it seems likely that the “Asian prostitute” remark was (incorrectly, regarding her occupation) aimed at her. As for the “homosexuals”, there are so many that it’s impossible to guess who Spencer had in mind.
What a nice gay post about how badly you want to assfuck liberal femboys