"Hi everybody, welcome to Afterburner, I'm Bill Whittle. Well I've been looking forward to the movie Tomorrowland since I first saw the trailer many months ago. You know, I was a young boy at the 1964 World's Fair, and it rewired my brain. I came out dreaming of monorails and jet packs, and frankly, I never got over it. So, imagine my delight when I discovered that the movie opens with a young boy and his jet pack at the 1964 World's Fair. I enjoyed the first three minutes of this movie immensely. The remaining two hours and seven minutes were excruciating. It was oral surgery without anesthesia. Tomorrowland is a message movie, but before I talk about the message, let me briefly talk about the movie. This mess is simply one of the worst acted, worst written, worst directed, and worst designed debacle since, well, since Jupiter Ascending. Another nine digit, leftist catastrophe from earlier this year. Tomorrowland is simply appallingly made. Now, I'd love to tell you about the plot, but there is no discernable plot. Apparently, robots from another dimension are trying to help and kill young Casey Newton because she was given a pin that allowed her to see the alternate dimension, Tomorrowland. And she wants to ride on the interstellar band camp trip along with other genetic perfection teenagers. Basically I think, it comes down to this. We stupid, greedy, ordinary people are bad, because we don't have Tomorrowland pins, but especially because we didn't listen to the smart people who do have pins when they told us that the world was about to end through global nuclear war, and also, global warming, global flooding, global winding, and global fashion failure. Therefore, the smart people with the pins in Tomorrowland have been transmitting a fake signal which is nevertheless true. Sound familiar? About the coming catastrophes in order to get us stupid people without pins to do the sensible thing. Which is of course, to submit to the instructions issued by the smart people with the pins dressed in future clothes, designed by Brazilian transvestites with unresolved Nazi fetishes. But look, there's a point to be made here, and it's the point that super liberals like writer-director Brad Bird and George Clooney are trying to make. It's the point about their point really. First, they can read the future in this movie. How flattering for them. And there's apparently a countdown timer with a big number 55 or something like that, that's when the world is going to end. 100% certainty. In 55 days. Through a series of nuclear explosions that set off global flooding or something like that 55 days from now. So I guess we'd better start listening to the people with the enamel pins right now. They're scientists after all. And when scientists with enamel pins say something, you had better listen or else, you know, as the movie says, you kinda deserve to die. Now for example, when they say that the Arctic will be ice free in summer in 2009, or 2011, or 2014, only to discover that pack ice is not only not disappeared as predicted by the Tomorrowland computers, but it's actually rather increased. Wow.
Some of us without the pins think that there might be a problem with the theory. Turns out, we're just greedy and we want to die, so there's that lesson. But of all of the lessons learned from the subconscious projections on the part of uber-libs Brad Bird and George Clooney, it must be the contrast between the gleaming, magnificence of the actual city, and the dead-eyed, robotic inhabitants of it. Everyone living in Tomorrowland has that same, exotic, dead-eyed, utterly useless look of a runway model in Milan, or those heroin chic, self-haters in a fragrance ad for Vogue or GQ, You know, vain, vacant, unsmiling, lifeless diversity mannequins. The only real people that appear in this movie are right at the very first few minutes, the 1964 citizens of the America whose passing we conservatives lament. You know, friendly, happy, decent, confident people. None of them wearing badges, none of them robotic, none of them dressed like Venetian space palace guards, just normal, average Americans at the height of their powers. Now, somewhere in this mess, we're supposed to feel sorry for the broken windows and mildewed paint of that gleaming city fallen into ruin. Well, I actually did, you know, the actual city was the only character in the movie that I actually liked. So, what killed it? What killed the actual Tomorrowland of Walt Disney? And of the future of the 1964 World's Fair?
Progressives killed it, that's who. The gleaming promise of tomorrow is not built on wind power or recycling, or sullen, brain dead, fashion model citizens with shiny little enameled genius pins. The promise of the future was based on confidence. The confidence of a people who at that time were uniquely free of all politics. Tomorrowland was not a government vision, it was a product of a single man named Walter. With a vision, and the corporation that brought that vision to life. The World's Fair that inspired both me and Brad Bird was a collection of pavilions sponsored by General Motors, IBM, Bell, Westinghouse, and Ford, to name a few. The NASA logo, that features so prominantly on our team protagonist CAT, well, that NASA didn't build a single rocket or a capsule. Those were done by greedy, dollar loving corporations named North American Rockwell, and Grumman, IntelliDyne, and Hughes, Lockheed, and all the rest. Now you see, this is the inescapable irony of this artistic and financial disaster. Liberals like Brad Bird and George Clooney lament the loss of the optimistic future, while demonizing the free market, non-coercive, business dynamos that were going to, you know, actually make it possible. Now at the same time, they worship the big state, big brain elitist politicians who meet in places like Tomorrowland, or the Harvard Law School, and issue pins to those other big brains to enable them to tell the rest of us whatever lies are needed in order to get us to bend a knee.
Gleaming Tomorrowland fell into ruin for the same reason that gleaming Detroit, home of so many of the sponsors of that 1964 World's Fair, fell into ruin. It's the progressive ideology of entitlement, division, and especially the self-hatred that destroys confidence, punishes the successful, and rewards the incompetent.
And that's the final insult of Tomorrowland. It's uttered at the very end, not in a purile, monologue telegraph from Brad Birds keyboard to Hugh Laurie's lips, but rather, in a supposedly upbeat ending. In it, George Clooney issues instructions to his army of dead-eyed, Kafiad, over-moussed, neurotic-looking, heartless children robot recruiters. Telling them to take a new set of magic enamel pins, and discover an entirely new crop of pin-wearing, elitist fascists, to repair and renew the world destroyed by the last crop of pin-wearing, elitist fascists. And as these robot children walk off into the rainforests and the windmill farms of the bright future, your chance of getting into the new Tomorrowland are apparently about zero if you're one of the white males that actually built the real thing. But it's approaching 100% if you're a street style, mixed-race, artist of color, or an aged female Thai rice farmer who also does pottery. If you're one of those you're pretty much in automatically. Now this is the real travesty. The real travesty of the message in Brad Bird and George Clooney's world. Because in their world, you don't find Tomorrowland. Tomorrowland finds you. And if it does, if you're selected, you wake up in a field of presumably gluten-free, Non-GMO wheat, and stare at a beautiful soul-less prison with no suburbs and no slums, because the big brains with the enamel pins have determined, they've determined, not you, not anybody else, and certainly not your merit, who gets to live there, and who gets to die like a dog out in the world of greedy, great, unwashed people who don't appreciate the sacrifices that the smart people have made on their behalf. You know, if Walt Disney had seen this film as a young man, he would've torn up his proposal for Disneyland, and started drinking himself to death, and that's what Tomorrowland makes me want to do right now."
The idea to name the street after Edip was proposed by Liege City Council member and Chairman of the Culture Commission Mehmet Aydoğdu, who said that once the street is finished, a small ceremony will be held in September.
“I am an artist myself, and Halide Edip Adıvar was a very important writer. At the same time, she was a female member of Parliament and became a symbol for having resigned due to women not having enough rights. She was a writer who lived both in the Ottoman Empire and in the Turkish Republic,” said Aydoğdu.
Edip was born in 1884, graduated from the American College for Girls in İstanbul and became one of the central figures in the Turkish nationalist and intellectual movement of the early republic.
"THIS week it emerged that high–performing Middle Rasen Primary School missed out on Ofsted's top grade because pupils lacked "first–hand experience of the diverse make–up of modern British society".
Gosh, the poor little things! According to the education watchdog the children did not get to see the "cultural diversity of modern British society" or have "first–hand interaction with counterparts from different backgrounds".
In other words the school was too white and too English, despite being in the multicultural melting pot that is rural Lincolnshire.
This is, bizarrely, part of Ofsted's new drive to impose "British values" in response to the "Trojan horse" scandal in Birmingham where it was discovered that hardline Islamists had attempted to take over a number of schools and indoctrinate pupils with their views.
Birmingham was at the very forefront of a particular government policy of the 1980s – multiculturalism, whereby the state dealt with people from various minorities through self–appointed community leaders.
Multiculturalism was a practical way of dealing with large numbers of people from ethnic minorities but it also stemmed from a psychological self–hatred among Britain's elite who did not wish to celebrate "our" culture above anyone else's, a sense of moral equivalence that took on grotesque proportions with their failure to deal with forced marriages and female genital mutilation.
(In a nursery near my home there is now an ad warning about FGM – what would a time traveller from 1955 make of that?)
ALSO there was a sense that religious and cultural diversity would "enrich" British life, to use one of those euphemisms now applied almost entirely ironically (along with "vibrant").
Ofsted's ruling on Middle Rasen Primary reflects this strange idea among white liberals that there is something offensive about Englishness.
Would they berate schoolchildren in rural Nigeria or Vietnam for their lack of diversity? What about Shanghai, top of the PISA education world rankings but – offensively – 98.8 per cent Han Chinese?
The immigration debate has never really been about economics, since the financial benefits or costs are small and transient, but about the cultural effects.
It's whether you believe that greater diversity makes people more spiritually enhanced, tolerant and kinder or whether you think it causes people to feel more isolated, unhappy and likely to segregate.
What grates is that those in a position of power are most likely to benefit and feel few of the downsides.
By every available educational measure multiracial London schools are ahead of the rest of the country and there is a fair bit of evidence that not only do the high scores of Chinese and Indian pupils raise the average mark but they may actually have an impact on pushing up the standards for white British pupils.
But these high–achieving schools tend to be concentrated in the wealthier areas.
In London young liberals who cannot afford those catchment areas where house prices insulate the schools from social problems tend to move out.
They don't send their children to the inner–city schools where none of the parents speak their language (for example Newham in east London where this month a 15–year–old boy was stabbed to death during a lunch–break mugging).
In fact recent research by a leading think tank found that people with liberal views on race were just as likely to move out of diverse areas as anyone else.
Multiculturalism has been a disaster, encouraging religious separatism, the surest symptom of this problem being the fact that there are believed to be more UK–born fighters for IS than there are Muslims in the British army.
But the "British values" that have replaced it are just as dubious, being in effect a way for the liberal–Left to impose their view of society on everyone else.
This is what Labour started to do under Tony Blair, creating a citizenship test that "defined Britishness" with questions about immigration, diversity and the EU.
Likewise Labour's citizenship classes, introduced in 2002, while one of the assumptions of the national curriculum is that all students should be prepared for "life in a multicultural society".
Equality chief Trevor Philips at one point even decreed that schoolchildren should learn "race relations and multiculturalism with every subject they study – from Spanish to science", a common practice of totalitarian states where the values of the ruling party are imbued in every aspect of education..."
"So, though no fault of your own, you are a young conservative male coming of age in a time when the deck is so heavily stacked against you that it’s like Michael Moore was leaning on it. Sure, it’s entirely the fault of a liberal elite led by President Nine Iron and a culture that bought into its lies long before you were born, but suck it up. It isn’t an excuse for failure – you may have an uphill climb at a higher angle of incline than I did, but tough luck. I can’t make the environment for you any friendlier, but maybe I can share some insights that might help.
Now, this is targeted to straight conservative males from 18-25 not because of the inherent cisnormative racism your TA told you about but because that’s who I was. Those who identify as “women” are welcome to take what they can from it. Those who are gay, well, my gaydar is so bad anyway that my exceedingly hot wife is constantly telling me, “Wait, you didn’t know XXXXX was gay? How did you not know XXXXX was gay?”
For those of you who are quick on the uptake, the key takeaway from that last paragraph is that I have an “exceedingly hot wife.” For that reason, if no other, you should listen to me. We’ll discuss relationships down the line. But first:
1.) Join the Army
Or the Marines, or the Navy, or Coast Guard, or even the Air Force, if you swing that way. I’m not judging. The point is, you should do a tour if you are one of the 30% of Americans who can qualify for military service. It will change your life, and enroll you in a true fraternity, one of men (and women) of extraordinary character and commitment that puts into perspective the cute, childlike Delta Cappa Whatevers and their bizarre paddling rituals.
This is what a Real Man may look like. Okay, it don't look like he just watched a Palace Flophouse production. He prolly just learned that Obama's new Secdef is pushing for nudists to serve openly, or some such.
When you earn a place in the ranks of those who defend our country, it may well be the first thing you ever really earned. There’s no helicopter mommy to complain to the drill sergeant that he needs to be more understanding of your delicate nature. There are no excuses of any kind. You will have earned something that is totally yours and can never be taken away – and you will live a life adventure that your contemporaries who are now second assistant to the guy who runs the Xerox machine can only dream of. Plus, chicks dig it. Trust me.
2.) Think Carefully Before You Go To College
If you aren’t already through college, why are you wanting to go? Understand that college is, to a significant extent, a scam. Hey, maybe you will get lucky and go to a place like Hillsdale where the word “education” isn’t a synonym for “drunken four-year vacation surrounded by petty fascists,” but the odds are against you. College was a huge help to me back in the 80’s, when a bachelors at UC San Diego didn’t mean I’d still be paying off debt out of my Social Security checks. I got to write humor, edit a conservative paper, and work on Capitol Hill, plus I have a lifetime of stories about my beer-fuelled adventures. Notice how none of that has to do with actual classes?
Consider living your life instead. If you really want to go to college, it can wait until you’ve lived a little. Finish a hitch in the service. Get a job. You’ll then be able to make the most of your investment. I did law school after my first tour, and paid much of it with the GI Bill. I was prepared for class every single day, while everyone else showed up nursing hangovers. Sure, I was hungover too, but I was prepared, damnit, because I was three months out of a war zone and officers didn’t show up unprepared.
Unfortunately, you do need a bachelors to do certain things, like go to law school. And on that note, don’t go to law school. Just trust me. Unless you want to spend your life making guys like me richer, take the money you’d borrow for it and not borrow it. Don’t go a quarter million dollars in debt so some name partner’s wife can get a pink Tesla to match her shoes. But if you do, let me know. I will appreciate your sacrifice, and so will my exceedingly hot wife.
3.) Pick a Career You Don’t Hate
You will be faced with the dilemma of choosing short-term money over long-term satisfaction. Don’t choose the money. I know liberals think we are all about money, but liberals know nothing or they would not be liberals.
Now, this notion is not some Millennial happy talk; it’s based on cold, hard reality. Life is too short to throw away doing something you hate, unless you incurred obligations and have no choice, in which case be a man and suck it up.
But, as a practical matter, if you hate it, you’ll do it poorly. And if you do it poorly you won’t rise. But if you love what you do – not always, and not every minute, but in general – you’ll focus on it and get better at it and, in the long run, you will succeed.
Hard work actually works. Sure, this economy sucks, and you can’t ride the crest of the Reagan wave of prosperity like I did, but then technology gives you opportunities and options I didn’t have starting out. Want to make a movie? Hell, you can get equipment for five grand that in the 1990s would have cost you a quarter million. Liberals want you to think there are limits, that you are trapped, that you can’t succeed. They lie.
4.) If You Want A Real Woman, Be A Real Man
Remember my exceedingly hot wife? You should, because your romantic relationship should be the cornerstone of your life and you want to get it right. Now, in a world of creepy feminists and whiny femboys, you need to understand that biology still trumps stupid social fads. Women want men. Not girly men. Not boys. Not manchildren. Men.
This is true of liberal women too, whether they admit it or not, but you don’t want one of them – well, at least for more than a few hours. Which reminds me – have an alias and use it.
The point is to avoid liberal women. If you see a chick hauling around a mattress, keep moving no matter how open to experimentation you hear she is. Do not become the lead in some daddy issue-plagued hysteric’s personal psychodrama.
You want a conservative woman. Ignore the liberal deniers – science proves that right wing women are hotter and sexier. Hey, conservatives don’t tend to have large families because they’re prudes. With liberal girls, a romantic interlude means a lot of sobbing about patriarchy, plus the vibe gets spoiled when you have to constantly stop to notarize affirmative consent forms.
There’s a lot of pressure on you young men to be passive and, frankly, wussy. Reject it. Call the girl. Don’t freaking text – texting is for the weak. Call her, like a man, and tell her what you want: “Hey, I want to take you out to [Quality Place] Friday. I want to pick you up at 7. You in?”
None of this lame, ambiguous texting crap: “Want 2 hangout w/ sum friends maybe sumwhere sumtime? LOL ;)”
Hang out, shmangout. Be a man and ask her on a damn date. She’ll be shocked, and pleased. Then open the door for her because you are a man and she’s a woman and men open doors for women whether the hairy-pitted, never-got-asked-to-the-prom crew from the local Womens’ Resource Center likes it or not.
Oh, and pay the check. Why? Because you are the man and I don’t care if she makes more than you. You asked her out, you’re the host. Pay the check.
And of course you should go out with a woman who asks you out. She’s got it together and knows what she wants. And if she asks you out and wants to pay, fine. But you still better open the door for her or I’ll smack you.
A date is an audition – you are auditioning her for the role of the woman you will spend the rest of your life with. If she’s cool, tell her, and tell her you’ll be calling her the next day. Then call her.
“Oh, Kurt, but she’ll think I like her and then maybe reject me!” Sheesh, that’s pathetic. Stop caring about rejection and start caring about not being a wuss who cares about rejection. Oh no, a chick didn’t like you! Trust me, you’ll find the strength to move on. And if you don’t, it’s only right and proper that your pathetic genetic line ends when you die alone in your mom’s basement.
Now, does my conservative advice work? Let’s review the key point here: “Exceedingly hot wife.” Any questions?
