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Knights don’t smell



The context is a picture that showed a medieval knight in armour in battle—commenters piled in underneath to say things like “I bet he was up to his armpits in crap” and so on. The right jumped in and asked, “Why do they always drag it down to faeces?”.


In Stuchbery, we see the progressive mindset at work: in the first place, he uses “mate” to demonstrate how amiable he is—of course, it’s also passive aggressive. It’s “Mate, come off it, give it a rest.” It’s an appeal to the agreeable group mind: “Now, now don’t cause a fuss, let’s get another round of ales in and have a laugh. Let’s not be silly.” To talk in that way, if the issue is contentious, might just induce an angry outburst in the other person and then Stuchbery can play “victim”. Overall, the important point is to be agreeable.


You see in his response that he has high emotional lability: life consists of “lows” and “highs”, rather like a woman on her period—indeed, it’s women who ask “how do you want to celebrate your birthday?”, like a woman Stuchbery wants to know when you can be “celebrated” (perhaps he also likes to “celebrate” under-appreciated women, gays, and so on). It’s a split view, you notice—high/low and, no doubt, good/bad (and, we should add, “racist” and “anti-racist”). Perhaps Stuchbery might say something like “Mate, mate you can’t say that…it’s racist. Come on, mate—you’re better than that.” It seems plausible.


Despite his appeal to sophistication—the idea that history needs to encompass the “highs and the lows” to get to the truth—Stuchbery really demonstrates his own unstable state. He’s neurotic, he has high negative affect—he feels very strongly. Life is up and down for him—he sees Nigel Farage on the telly and he feels angry and upset for hours. “How can he say those things!”.


Compare that attitude to an airline pilot—total stability, unflappable, no drama (and, I suspect, quite a nuanced take on the world that doesn’t amount to the tribal good/bad, right/wrong, racist/anti-racist). But that’s Stuchbery’s world—life as a woman on her period.


He wants people to talk about their “lows” not from some desire to get to “the truth” or some genuine desire to help them but because he thinks it’s high-status to be a victim. So if you admit your “lows” you can become a victim too and join in his status economy where the more bad things that have happened to you the more good you are.


Behind that impulse also lurks the desire to make sure nobody is superior to him—if we’re all open about our “lows” nobody can be above Mike Stuchbery (and will he be open about his lows if we are…?). There are many ways to get power over somebody. “Come on, mate—it’s not like that, mate.”

We then have reference to “the crappy parts”—again, like “mate”, it’s “chummy” language. “Life’s a bit meh at the moment.” “It’s a bit of a crappy situation.” It’s the language of the tea break, of banality—of passing the time of day, of “plodding along, plodding along”. It’s not substantial.


“Crappy parts”: the left does have an interest in excreta, and that’s due to their neuroticism and high negative affect again; they react very strongly against “the whiff” (not a word I like to use but it gives the right impression)—a bit like, well, a woman they want to go “Pee-eew. Who did a windy-poo?”. Yet, despite the vocal protests about the situation, it actually causes them less visceral disgust than the right—so they make a noise about it, about “the chore”, but are not so “grossed out” as the right (perhaps why they deploy “dirty talk” against their more fastidious opponents).

So when they want to smear someone they perceive as negative they reach for faecal jargon—the language of the nursery, of nanny. A while back, there was a cartoon of Putin as a baby driving a tank and leaving a smear of faeces behind him—again, the left sees a powerful man and they try to present him like a naughty infant who has soiled his nappy (a similar theme was deployed against Trump).


Well, I have to admit, I enjoy lavatorial language myself from time to time, but deployed in this way it’s a woman’s view of the world—and it’s also projection, they can’t do what is necessary to self-actuate and so men who do self-actuate are perceived by them to be incontinent babies that scream for help (yet that is how the left behaves, with its protest rallies—take action, now! Waaaaaaaaa!!!).


Indeed, Stuchbery talks about “lying to yourself” and the right’s presentation of a “feel-good fairytale”; well, he’s the one lying to himself—and, in fact, fairytales are realistic (doubtful Stuchbery has read any). It’s Stuchbery who is after “only good vibes”—it’s the highs and the lows again (you have to feel up “feel-good”, then down “crappy”—embrace your feminine bi-polar nature).


If you don’t have high emotional lability, you will not perceive world events as “highs” or “lows”—nor will you go “ooohhh, so stinky ick” if you have to change a nappy for some reason. Life is not highs and lows—life is stable (for you). You don’t become “overwhelmed” by the world—further, leftists tend to be less conscientious and have a lower disgust response; so Stuchbery doesn’t have the psychological continence not to swear nor does he experience great disgust when he uses lavatorial jargon. Yet, as with a woman, he does know how to moan a lot about whatever “stinky” task he must undertake.


When confronted with a medieval knight, if you live in a victim-orientated world where you are impotent and cannot self-actuate, you will experience the knight as an attack on your self. His power, efficacy, and nobility cause you emotional distress—he is not weak, he is not a victim; and, therefore, as a rebuke to your existence, he must be smeared. Hence you will post underneath the image, as reaction formation: “their suits were filled with crap.”


That’s because, in your mind, in your defence mechanism, “the truth” is that everything was really bad in the past (splitting again; it’s good/bad, day/night)—and men who undertake independent actions and are not victims are basically “smelly” (there’s no rational aspect to it, just projection—it is the person who throws the insult who is a large be-diapered baby). It is impossible for them just to appreciate a medieval knight—who is beautiful and powerful.


He has to be smeared—he has to be “the stinky Middle Ages”; as it happens, you often find phrases like “the stinky Middle Ages” in history books aimed at children age 8-12, just to pique their interest (that’s where Stuchbery is stuck at).


It’s why I’m careful about the way I criticise Andrew Tate. The problem is that he instantiates a perverted masculine man—he’s a gangster, like Stalin. Yet his main critics are feminised men like Stuchbery who criticise him not for being a gangster but for being masculine—i.e. because he has muscles, because he has lots of women, because he has money. They criticise him in the way they’d attack a medieval knight—which plays into Tate’s narrative “I’m a real man, not a pussy”.


Yet we still need knights—though for now we only have gangsters and feminised men, Stuchberys and Tates.





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