Jennifer Caban supports and embodies US militarism disguised as subversive activism
INTERNET — Friday, effete splatter artist and debutante author Molly Crabapple aka Jennifer Caban revealed the true name of pseudonymous author Emma Quangel, igniting a firestorm of criticism and hatred. Crabapple and others justified the doxing under the reasoning that Quangel supports Assad by denying the starvation of children in the siege of Madaya and worse — that Quangel supports terrorists.
Quangel completely disappeared from social media and has so far made no comment despite a long history of antagonism towards Crabapple.
The extremist left Quangel identifies with has been quick to issue many reprisals in her absence, including the usual evidence of Crabapple’s association with Neo-Nazi and influential internet troll Andrew Aurenheimer aka Weev. They hold that the so-called “celebrity left” of which Crabapple is a prime example is a propaganda implement of US militarism. Crabapple’s recent support for the US military’s distributed cryptographic weapons system, Tor, is another piece of evidence which in their eyes makes Crabapple into an agent of empire. Whether a mere panderer, Machiavellian mastermind, CIA spook, or unwitting shill, her doxing of Quangel has drawn greater consternation and suspicion than ever before.
Typical to many in the extremist left, Quangel focused criticism on Crabapple with a remarkable intensity and frequency. She went farther than most by publishing a dystopian science fiction book, Spooks, which explicates her position against the kind of sexed up politics unique to Crabapple’s brand.
Quangel’s cohorts were quick to point out her good work in publicizing the Dylann Roof manifesto as well as her job acting as press officer for the International Organization for Migration (IOM), a job which is now possibly endangered due to Crabapple’s doxing, although IOM has refused to comment.
Personal attacks and allegations have been directed towards Quangel, accusing her of an overly affluential upbringing as the daughter of a CNN anchor.
Fighters in Syria are surely holding their breath to see what happens next in the conflict between Quangel and Caban, the most important and dramatic front in their war.
Quangel is scheduled to appear on Chronicle.su HATE RADIO to talk about her book Spooks — if she ever resurfaces.
This weird creep is a hero to many other obvious creeps
Cultural Marxism, a supposed race-based modification on Marx, created in the terrified imaginings of people with hostility for all race politics, completely ignores the works of Marx and uses that name only because it evokes fear. By mere substitution of race for class in the popular misunderstanding of Marx, the modified “Cultural” Marxism is an imagined tool used for suppressing white people. It is preposterous to suggest that such a view has ever existed except in the shattered mirror of hostile sources, and it is certainly beyond credulity to suggest such a view is dominant now.
Almost all SJWs — to use the hostile term — are intersectionalist and rather than taking the worst from Marx and (Critical) Theory and concocting something that sure looks like obvious scare propaganda, they are generally voicing a point of view that puts marginalized and demonized peoples of all classes and races at the center of the discussion. That their arguments have made some headway in the world for struggling people is certainly good for us all. The economy as well as compassion is not zero sum, in fact it takes less effort to just not fuck with people. Why do it? What a waste.
Nobody is teaching college students to hate white men. Nobody is wishing poverty on whites or orchestrating immigration invasion. Cultural Marxism is nothing more than scare propaganda for the easily triggered loser with a weak sense of identity who cannot abide multitude. The prophet of Cultural Marxism, Anders Breivik, was a friendless sad man who, despite his affluence, felt victimized by immigration. He isolated himself after multiple plastic surgeries and even in the depths of his suicidal pact with himself he was too scared to speak to women. The costs of his bomb-making plot were far beyond reasonable, the methods were completely absurd, and his autobiography is the most extreme form of self-mutilation possible. He thought of fine dining as a greater necessity for bomb making than practical concerns like pulverizing explosive components. That’s the type of guy to needlessly bury murder equipment, to travel to Budapest only to buy a hooker and fail at the completely unnecessary and expensive mission of purchasing illegal weapons. He is the prototype and caricature of shut-in video game nerds who log on to the net only to cluck about cucks and SJWs because they have no other source of satisfaction in life.
Acclaimed housing expert and inventor of tomorrow’s forms of social domination, Dr. Angstrom H. Buckminster Troubadour, told a warm audience of white silicon valley elites exactly what they wanted to hear — the unsightliness of poverty has finally and permanently been solved by his team of scientists at the YouTopia foam mansion housing project.
“I’ve heard about the Yogi Vinay Gupta hellhole yurt and those pieces of shit are cardboard boxes that don’t get soggy.” Troubadour said. “Try living like that for a night. Try a year. They’re about as big and nice as a dog house, and the crypto mesh network has the slowest internet you’ve ever experienced. If you want tomorrow’s revolutionaries living in refrigerator sized yurts using an Internet that won’t make anyone any money, that’s fine for the third world, but Lebal Drocer and the Troubador YouTopia Foam Mansion Project promises a New World in which those displaced by corporate greed live like the 1% themselves.”
Vinay Gupta casts dead eyes over a modern-day concentration camp of his making.
The individual foam mansion units, nicknamed YouTopia boxes by Dr. Troubadour, occupy a space roughly the size of a wooden shipping pallet but when constructed form a shining three story McMansion.
“These foam mansions are the beginning of a new era beyond sustainability. Their existence creates resources. These foam mansions promise to shake the very foundations of what it means to live inside foam. This is THE END and THE BEGINNING of the American underclass!” The audience fell silent with awe, in the grips of Troubador’s meaningful pause.
Troubador pounded his chest and the crowd withered beneath his terrible gaze, “Vinay Gupta says life viewed from inside a tiny foam yurt – a so-called solution to poverty – is to view the world from a high upon a heavenly cloud. For people like him, who have no lust for power, Lebal Drocer thinks that’s fine. But this is America, where we make winners and losers get what’s coming — a Gupta death camp. Life viewed from atop the Lebal Drocer Foam Mansion is always lined with gold, satisfyingly gripping to its foundation with the viscous blood of the shiftless masses far below.”
“The beginning of a new epoch — an invention more important than fire.”
Size comparison between Gupta’s rat trap and Troubador’s foam mansion.
Troubador pressed a button on his gadget and summoned a hologram fly-through of his incredible foam mansion exposing all the most beautiful, high-class amenities. “These foam castles are far better than Vinay Gupta’s hovels because they are made from 100% recycled gym mat foam salvaged from middle school foreclosures taking place all across America. The price on this recyclable material has plummeted even further since Subway ended the practice of putting it into their bread. In fact, because of total lack of regulation in so-called ‘sacrifice zones’ we’re now able to create a totally sustainable paradise home for half the price of the average sedan.”
The crowd cried out in agony as if tortured by ecstasy upon receiving knowledge that Troubador had not only solved poverty but also the issue of social mobility. He leaned forward and brought them to an even higher climax with a well-timed techno mind grenade, turning the congregation into a writhing pile of flesh, each mind surging with the force of 10,000 simultaneous orgasms.
“We got foam-ass mansions up in here. The plumbing is thin plastic – so thin – maybe it’s like thin aluminum cans or something, and we make the wires even thinner. We actually run network cables into these mansions with a free internet plan from Facebook!”
Hundreds in the audience fell to their knees, supplicants at the altar of Lebal Drocer. A woman was heard weeping. A baby spoke in tongues.
Troubadour raised his fist, and his voice, threatening any detractors. “Any talk of these mansions taking their materials from the so-called middle or lower foam class is communist ideology that will result in genocide of all castes,” Troubadour barked. “I will personally kill, with these two bare hands, any potential future dissidents calling for liberation movements on the basis of class, race, creed, or gender. Foam, and nothing but foam shall be tolerated henceforth as the only legitimate political speech and action. We would rather DIE than see our fellow man force-Ubered into one of Gupta’s hovel camps. Instead, we aim to see humanity’s worst raised to the towering height of this shining foam mansion — a castle, a conquest, a Bordello.”
The hologram foam mansion twirled and glowed, filling with the naked bodies of masturbating futanari all reaching orgasm at once, spraying their hermaphroditic fluids like a leaky firehose onto every surface of the glorious, shining foam.
