If one were to take Victor Epsilon Flavius Hanson seriously, one would learn soon enough that we live in an ever-more decrepit world. Victor is urgent about this, bidding us to change our ways before Drake and the Ushers dash America upon history’s rocks. Here he asks and answers – he must – the question that other, sane, people for some mysterious reason haven’t bothered with: Is the West Dead Yet?
The West is paradoxically dominant on the global stage and eroding from within.
For a guy who spends his days fapping over portraits of Roman generals, this is altogether surprising. But let’s not go on about Victor, let’s keep this short. Let me cut through the daunting Fresno State intellectual-ese and give you the highlights. Ahem: Facebook, sociology, Google, schlock, pop culture, Russia, China, tattooing, piercing, Latino students, immigrants, the Middle East, hoi polloi, Mohammed Morsi, India, Neo-Communism, Thucydides and Aristophanes, Tacitus, Suetonius, Miley Cyrus and so long farewell, goodbye.
You can tell what he’s getting at. Nobody’s ever been better than Victor at spitting into the wind.
If, God forbid, Putin moves into the Baltic states, if Iran launches a nuke into Israel, if North Korea shoots chemical shells into Seoul, if China absorbs Taiwan, if, in another 9/11, a dozen 757s take down the Sears Tower, if the interest rate on a soon-to-be-$20-trillion national debt hits 7 percent, if Social Security checks start to bounce, or if Wall Street trumps its 2008 implosion…
…vale Victorum, the Elder. He’s too sophisticated to hang around with the lowly likes of us. But there he is snaking his hands down his pants again – not in public dude! Remember? I wonder how much of that apocalyptic frisson would linger if I pointed out that 9/11, and the implosion of our vaunted economy, and the high stacking of bloated corpses in the desert sun – many of the bodies being American, like Vic – recently happened thanks to the people who think exactly like him. Thanks to the people who read Victor, and take hints from him.
It was Victor himself who applauded the New Empire policies that produced those catastrophes. Democrats voted-in in the aftermath had to don hazmat gloves in order to turn him over, wipe his ass, hand him a lollipop and send him skipping on his way. Not bothering to say ‘thanks’, or learn proper squatting habits, Hanson has spent all his recaptured time calling for more war across the Middle East, lest America become fading Rome. Here he has the balls to dread-fantasize a new round of the exact same tragedies he just cheered on, as if he’s providing us an historic allegory and not a blow-by-blow account of his epic stupidity.
And why does he do this? I don’t know, the deeper stirrings of dumb are mysterious. But his words are plain and simple: Because of the persistence of the black president. And because Jay Z. Clearly there’s a global problem here:
…then Miley Cyrus will go the way of Britney Spears, Barack Obama the way of Jimmy Carter, and Black Lives Matter the way of It’s a Black Thing, You Wouldn’t Understand. Then the televised presences of Caitlin Jenner and the Kardashians would vanish as the decadent indulgences of a society that could no longer afford them.
You thousands of Black Lives Matter protestors, you’re no better than Britney Spears. You’re just like that Kardashian who cut his dick off, ha ha. How wondrous and thoughtful Victor is. Of course back when Reagan the Brainless was running everything, and Vic the Bric walked around appointed with tears of joy, this was a fine and proud country – of gimlet eyes and iron will. He has never been more sure of that! As Great Societies are Great In All Ways, its manifold virtues were on effortless display, in the popular music of Sammy Hagar and the movies of Sylvester Stallone:
Supermarket Killer: *shouting* I don’t wanna talk to you! Now you bring in the television cameras in here now! C’mon, bring ’em in!
Marion Cobretti: Can’t do that.
Cobra: I don’t deal with psychos. I put them away.
Killer: I ain’t no psycho, man! I’m a HERO! You’re looking at a fuckin’ hunter! I’m a hero of the New World!
Cobra: You’re a disease – and I’m the cure. *throws knife in gut*
Eat it, liberal. And here:
Contrast that with what America looks like now. I mean now – not a few months ago. No, don’t bother with Bush’s War in Iraq, or the sure-bet rise of ISIS, or his epic tax cuts/deficits, or his leaving the city of New Orleans in cadaver-strewn ruins. Those were just whoops, or whatever, or bits of history. Instead picture it as we have it today: With transgender people! And fatass YouTube celebrities! With a president who knows Chance the Rapper! And Negroes who badmouth the cops! On TV! Fuck me!
Can you believe it? Victimian Pi Thagorus can’t. But then what am I saying? – of course he can. None other than he himself long ago un-varnished this essential truth about us, thee great white man’s civilization…
Bounty to boredom to decadence to panic to reawakening to ascendance has always been the cyclical way of the West. Its curse has been that the cycles of nihilism are as long as they are unnecessary.
Yeah man whistle. Frigging deep, I tells ya. If this sepia toned schtick appeals to you – and who doesn’t want to look, like, smart? – then set your sights on the dawning of the next Western cycle, as the world is once again turned by the Fates Of Victor. It’s only a matter of time before they are reawakened and Rihanna cast upon the dung-heap of history. Ascendance, bitch. And please don’t think this is so laughable as to be nihilism defined.