Folks, Please Respect the Nazi

Okay, people I know you're angry. A bunch of fascist nitwits are running the White House thanks to the shittiness of our supposedly-democratic system. And yes, Stephen Miller is one totem pole away from being a 4Channer posting Pepe the Frog memes, but that doesn't give you the right to call him a fascist while he's enjoying Mexican food. Haven't you people ever heard of decorum? Stephen Miller is an adviser to the President and therefore entitled to a certain level of respect while he's gleefully laughing about separating migrant families like the world's lamest Bond villain. I mean, it's not like you can argue that the President doesn't conduct himself with poise and...

Alright, so that was a stupid argument. President Trump rode to the White House because he doesn't act like just another politician. People liked that about him; they still do, otherwise his approval rating wouldn't be hovering around 40 percent. Still, just because the President conducts himself like a high school bully on Twitter doesn't mean he and his staff aren't deserving of respect. Take poor Sarah Huckabee Sanders, for instance. She was trying to enjoy a nice farm to table meal and the goddamn owner of the restaurant kicked her and her family out! Just for working for the President! Well, also because she lies to the American people on a daily basis like a shitty, hillbilly Goebbels. Bad form, restaurant owner! I'm sure a decent portion of Americans are salivating to have the chance to host such a wonderful human being as Sarah Huckabee Sanders. The Republican Party thinks that gay people should not be served if a business owner disagrees with their sexuality, but come-on, irony has no meaning for these people! If you said the word, they would look at you like you had just projectile vomited all over the floor.

Well, maybe not. Both Miller and Homeland Security Secretary Kristjen Nielsen were eating in Mexican restaurants while the controversy over migrant family separation was brewing, which has to be some form of trolling, right? Maybe these assholes know exactly how terrible they are being, and they don't give a shit? Maybe they deserve the exact amount of respect your cat would give a rat scurrying under the dinner table? Maybe it's time these people understand exactly how much a majority of America hates them?

Or maybe we should just shut our mouths and be good little members of the proletariat. I know what the Trump administration would have us do.

Red Pill Steve "More Bannon than Bannon" Bannon On Masculinity

This is totally what I look like. Haters gonna hate.

Alright, cucks, this is Red Pill Steve, and I'll be writing a regular column on Pointless Venture in the interest of being fair and balanced and all that shit. If you want to know who I am, let it be known that I am the manliest man that ever manned, and I've banged like a million chicks, and I spend my days chopping down trees and logical fallacies perpetrated by the soy-fed masses, who will one day drive the human race to extinction with their complete devotion to pussyness and being pussy-whipped. Despite what my critics say, I never have and never will live in my mom's basement. In fact, I don't have a mom. Also, I'm not that Steven Bannon, though I'm basically the same guy and will someday be advisor to a President and have my own terrible web site (but not this one).

Now back in the day, before feminism took all the masculinity out of society, men were real men and not the slackjawed, boy-faced pseudo-males you see all around you talking about comic books and social justice. We used to get to wear suits and drink in the office like Don Draper, and nobody cared about offending anyone, and if you complimented a woman on her bust-size, she didn't immediately run to human resources claiming you were a sexual predator (thanks, Barbara) because that shit hadn't been invented yet. But beta-males were still about, and they've been around since the beginning of time. Let's take a look at some of history's biggest cucks so that we don't magically lose our balls and grow tits.

Thomas Jefferson: I mean, just look at the dude in the above picture. Does he not look like the kind of guy that spends his days defending anime and freedom of speech in games journalism? I guarantee if you asked him a question, he'd look at the ground and mumble incoherently. So he wrote the Declaration of Independence. Big fucking deal. We would've been better as a British Colony, because colonialism was the bomb, and who wouldn't want to have a king instead of a pussy president (with the exception of alpha-male Donald Trump)? Although I do give him points for sleeping with his slaves (it was consensual!) and not conceding to the PC warriors of his day. If you want a better founding father, then look to Aaron Burr. He at least was a man who shot people and tried to form his own crazy country. Or look to ultimate bro Ben Franklin for inspiration, who put bags over the heads of his ladies and did his business while wearing a coonskin cap and brandishing a lightning rod.

Socrates: Ok, I got to give him points for basically being naked. But notice the unkempt beard, which you know he grew to hide his feminine bone structure. As a philosopher, his whole point was "You can't know anything." What a fem-nazi cop out. I'll tell you what I do know, Socrates: you defiled young boys and corrupted the masculinity of the youth of Athens. That's why they killed him. He went out like a total pussy, too, by drinking hemlock instead of insisting upon mortal combat. Good riddance.You want a better philosopher? Try Nietzsche, but only read what r/The_Donald has to say about him, not any of his actual works. Also, try some Ayn Rand, but remember that she was a woman, and so not capable of complex thought.

FDR: FDR was responsible for the modern nanny state, which emasculates men by letting the weak survive. He was also crippled, and he hid that fact from voters, because he knew they wouldn't vote for him otherwise. He was married to lesbo Eleanor, probably the first woman that slept with him. Also, he was totally on the wrong side during WW2. I'll let you guess what side that was.

I mean, I could go on and on about the soy-boys of yesteryear, but my mom left some hot pockets in the microwave, and I don't want to burn my tongue when I bite into them. Also, I'm like totally not racist or any of those other social justice buzzwords. Until next time.

New Music: Love Is What You Can Find

A rare ballad from Theme Park Mistress, first song that I've written in a while. Recorded all the keyboard parts on a hand-me-down instrument that's probably worth about forty bucks.

We Are the Persecuted

We are the persecuted, the beleaguered, the witch-hunted. We suffer dirty looks from the underclasses when we don our MAGA caps, and sometimes, servers will not serve us. We are not free to shout our racial slurs like our Great Leader, because everyone has a smartphone and the internet can destroy a life. Our children call us stupid, brainwashed, and fascist, and though we have disinherited them, the words still hurt. We are shamed for watching Fox News, for taking pride in the American flag, for valuing a good-looking, big-titted white woman over all others. They don't want us to support the troops; they wish the troops were all dead. They wish for a world free of responsibility, a world of racial handouts and reparations and socialized medicine. They want the Deep State to win. They don't understand the travesty of the emails, or the horrors of a pants-suit. They think God is something that died long ago.

They want to tell us how to live. They want to take the Christ out of Christmas and put a Jew or a Kwanzaa man in his place. They want to take our money and give it to the welfare queens who have grown fat off the system, having their ten children with ten different fathers. They want our teenagers to have sex and be gay. They want transexuals to share bathrooms with small children. All of their wants are evil wants, and their God is not a god but the devil himself. For years he reigned, sitting on the shoulder of Obama as he plotted to take away our guns and put us in deathcamps. He sat on the shoulder of Clinton, the great liar, the Whore of Babylon incarnate. Now he has been banished by our Great Leader, and they are not pleased.

We are enjoying the reign of the greatest President of our lives, and they are not happy. They are not happy that he is doing something to stem the tide of illegals pouring through our borders to rape and pillage and deal drugs and hip-hop. They are not happy that he has tried to erase the horror of Obamacare and its deathcamps. They are not happy that his tax cut, which will put so much money back into our pockets, has passed and will become law. They are not happy that he has made the NFL players stand for our national anthem. They try to discredit his accomplishments, and drag him down with the FBI, a Deep State apparatus, part of the Jew-run Illuminati secret cabal that has plotted to destroy America with AIDS and Islam.

We are the resistance, the minority fighting to preserve pride and whiteness and privilege. Our world is different from yours; global warming is a Chinese conspiracy, sexual harassment is a fiction created by ugly women, and Donald Trump is the greatest American ever to live. You cannot convince us otherwise, because we will not listen to anything that you say. Just watch as we take back the land that our forefathers gave us. Just watch as we keep up the good fight. Just watch as the Swamp is drained of alligators, frogs, and human-slime.

Watch as we make America Great Again.

Nerd Column: The Physical Devolution of America

Mark Henry was strong because he was born before the internet.

Currently, there's a reddit thread on r/weightroom in response to an article on 70's Big that states every man can squat 405 lbs. Redditors are falling over themselves to argue against the central point of the article, stating that one has to be on the juice and have a cave-man forehead to be able to lift such monolithic weight. One person states that they've only ever seen someone squat 405 twice in their gym; another says they've been lifting for years and can squat 340 lbs pounds, which must mean 405 is impossible, because they're been trying real hard, supposedly. In 200 plus comments, there may be three or four arguing in favor of the article, which came as a shock to me. 405 is not a lot of weight for an adult man to squat. I squatted 405 lbs after three or four years of training, and I'm certainly not a (genetic) freak. How can all these people spend so much time obsessing over training minutiae and not be at least competent at lifting weights?

My generation was the first internet generation. My family upgraded to high-speed (for the time) internet when I was sixteen years old. Sure, I spent a lot of time playing Counter-Strike and chatting on Messenger, but I also went outside and hiked, lifted weights, and played a few sports. I did work on my family farm. I grew up with the internet, but I never let the internet make me weak. I don't think younger members of my generation had the same experience. Maybe they grew up with atrophied spinal erectors from sitting in a chair all day. Maybe they never developed any muscle on their legs from being inside 24/7. Maybe they never did any manual labor because almost nobody does manual labor in America anymore. Maybe for younger millennials, it really is an impressive feat to squat 405 lbs.

I watch my toddler run around every day like a monkey on speed. He climbs over the couch, hauls his toy car around, pushes the coffee table like a sled. He's strong enough to pick up a gallon of milk with one arm while he's sitting in the seat of a shopping cart. He is a physical, muscular creature, and most of us are born like him. Somehow we lose that simple joy of exercising our bodies. We start complaining about stairs and walking. Our supple frames become loaded with adipose tissue, from the American diet of fat and sloth. We have an excuse for everything. We're just big-boned; we don't metabolize food as efficiently as some people. There's no point in exercising because we just can't lose weight.

How did we get to this point, and are we going to do anything about it?

It's not hard to get in shape. Building a rocket to the moon was hard; losing weight is about eating less garbage and burning more calories. Getting strong is about eating more good food and lifting heavy weights. All the internet bullshit in the world is dancing around those simple points.

Weightlifting: 7/5/3/1 and the Best Protein Shake

Is that a protein shake or a sugary treat from Starbucks?

7/5/3/1 is a 5/3/1 variation where for the first week of the cycle, you do 3 sets of 7, with the last set being a 7-plus set. Basically, I took the deload week and added a few reps and sets. For all practical purposes, 5/3/1 is more like 8/6/3 for me, so perhaps this variation should really be 10/8/6/3. Here's an example, for anyone with no clue what I'm talking about.

Front squat one rep max = 300 lbs.

First week: 115*5, 135*5 (warm up), then 155*7 (50% of 1 rpm), 180*7 (60% ), 195*9 (our hypothetical lifter was able to perform two extra reps).

Second week: warm up, 195*5, 200*5, 210*5+ (70%)

Third week: warm up, 200*3, 210*3, 225*3+ (75%)

Last week: warm up, 210*5, 225*3, 245*1+ (80%)

The percentages I'm using are lower than the actual 5/3/1 program, but you're supposed to start conservative and set rep PRs. I also don't like messing with percentages in general--I was an English major and that's too much goddamn math. Also, it doesn't really matter. All that matters is pushing the weights.

I'd like to also share a protein shake recipe that contains no protein powder. Protein powder is expensive and a rip-off, you're probably not getting the advertised amount of protein. Instead of wasting cash, make this delicious shake (Disclaimer: Do not eat raw eggs. I only do so because I have an iron stomach). Without further ado:

In a blender add 4 eggs, 8 ounces of milk, 8 ounces of Greek yogurt, one banana, and a couple strawberries. The result should be around 47 grams of protein, with very little fat. Enjoy.

Conan Brothers Q&A

NattyJuice405 asks "Bros, what is your training like? We haven't had an update in a while."

Dave: It goes the same as it always goes.

Arnold: Weightlifting isn't an intellectual pursuit. It's about lifting heavy shit. That's why meatheads are good at it.

Dave: But we aren't your average meatheads.

Arnold: We know how to read, write, and bake a meatcake.

Dave: Don't eat his meatcake.

Arnold: I'm currently doing a 5/3/1 variation of my own creation. Behold:

Sunday: Front squat 5/3/1 progression, split squats for 5 sets of 10, calf raises 5 sets of 10.

Tuesday: Bench press 5/3/1, cable rows 5 sets of 10, pressdowns 5 sets of 10.

Thursday: Power clean 5/3/1, leg curl 5 sets of 10, dumbbell good morning 5 sets of 10.

Saturday: Press 5/3/1, chin ups AMAP 5 sets of 5, barbell curl 5 sets of 10.

I do optional upper body stuff throughout the week if I feel like it, curls, side laterals, and so forth. I don't want to particularly think about my training at the moment, so this works.

Dave: I just lift weights.

Arnold: Yeah, well, I'm a special snowflake and you're a piece of poo-poo.

...

MarvelMonkey asks "Avengers: Infinity War. Thoughts?"

Dave: It was pretty good for an animated flick.

Arnold: Best romantic comedy I've seen in a long time.

Dave: The song and dance was really spectacular.

Arnold: Just a good ol' time at the movies.

Dave: I could have done with a little less scrotum chin.

Arnold: I really wanted Robert Downey Jr.'s head on a pike, and I am disappointed that did not happen.

Dave: I never like the team-up movies as much as the individual ones. I didn't think it was as good as Thor: Ragnarok or Spider-Man: Homecoming.

Arnold: But the deaths, Dave. All of which have no consequence.

Dave: I also thought Thanos's plan was stupid. Like, dude, just make half the universe infertile if you're so worried about over-population. Maybe he would've met less resistant had be been giving out free castrations.

Arnold: Maybe he would've met more.

...

PCPrincess asks "Do you guys think Trump will ever be held accountable for his gross criminality and corruption?"

Dave: That's like asking if the devil will ever get his due.

Arnold: This country is so partisan that there will always be a large percentage of the voting public that will support Trump, even if he's caught on video pledging allegiance to Russia while pissing on an American flag.

Dave: But, but the Mueller investigation!

Arnold: Like I said, it doesn't really matter what he uncovers. I have no faith in humanity. Trump is the idiot god of old white racists. It doesn't matter if he's taking payouts from corporations or selling off public lands. He's got Fox News on his side, and conservatives have brainwashed their constituents into believing that Fox is the only legitimate source of news. Fox doesn't report on his scandals.

Dave: But, but maybe the Democrats will take back Congress and he'll be impeached!

Arnold: They could take the House, but remember, it's pretty badly gerrymandered. The Senate is probably out of reach, baring a historic turnout.

Dave: But, but, but but!

Arnold: The idealistic part of me want to say that Trump will get his due. But that part died long ago, buried under a mountain of propaganda, dirty laundry, and meat-sweats.

Dave: Oh god, the meat-sweats.

Arnold: You got to pace yourself while eating meat. Never forget, Dave.

Dave: How could I?

Lore Building: An Ugly Map

Here's an amateurish drawing of the South of the fantasy world of The Heart of the Thief. I drew this map to help me visualize the world better, and as you can see, my drawing talents do not rival Picasso's. The story starts out in the coastal city of Capetia, and the main characters travel through the Great Woods all the way to Beaune, a country modeled after medieval France. A lot of this might be revised, but this is the world so far.

Select Farmers Only Profiles

Name: Not sure anymore since I'm generally referred to by all as "South-Indiana Troll-Beast," or simply "Ogre-Face."

Age: Anywhere between 30 and 85 years.

Looking for: Somebody to hold a pillow over my face; companionship on a superficial level.

Hobbies: Chain-smoking, excessive High Life drinking, snarling, farting, meat-mashing.

Bio: HEY Y'ALL WHO WANTS TO DIVE IN MY POOL FULL OF RACCOON SKELETONS AND SEE HOW MANY THEY CAN KNOCK OUT WITH A CANNON BALL? WILL MEET YOU FOR A CIGARETTE EATING CONTEST. PLEASE BRING THREE CASES OF BEER BECAUSE I CAN'T TALK NO GOOD WITHOUT IT. ALSO, IGNORE MY FANGS, THEY'RE MOSTLY COSMETIC. DON'T WANT ANY HIPPIES UNLESS THEY BRING PLENTY OF DOPE. ALSO IF YOU'RE LOOKING FOR SOMEONE TO LICK YOUR WALLS CLEAN, LEMME KNOW.

Name: Frank Reynolds

Age: 33

Looking for: A brew-knowledgeable lady who will swallow my swill with a smile on her face.

Hobbies: Talking about beer, talking about hops, sourcing locally, generally being a dick about beer.

Bio: Hey all, just looking for companionship in the local farm community, would be great if I met someone who grew their own hops. Obviously, I'm really into beer, so it's a given that you're going to have to be as well. Just started up my own brewery (Frank's Deliciously Skunky Beers) even though there's a microbrewery about every block. Haven't got all the recipes down, so hope you look good holding a bitter beer face! Hah, please bring something not related to beer into my life.

Name: The thing that walks that should not.

Age: 10 (dog years).

Looking for: A tasty treat and a good, smelly place to roll around.

Hobbies: Eating things that are not eatable, pooing in the house, barking at noises no one can hear but me.

Bio: Woof woof! Okay, so I'm writing this for my dog, he's a mixed bread rescue, and I have to be honest, I can't stand the sight of him any longer. I will give you one-hundred dollars to take him off my hands. Do whatever the hell you want; hell, toss him in the river, I don't give a shit. The above picture is really what he looks like. Imagine waking up to that face staring into yours every single day. I didn't do anything to deserve this hell. Wait a minute, this is Pet Finder, right?

Name: The Joker, the Clown-Prince of Crime

Age: ?

Looking for: An abusive relationship with either a male caped crusader playing the role of dominant, or a submissive woman willing to dress as a clown and be beaten with socks filled with soap. A couple would be nice.

Hobbies: Casual murder, clown-themed gags, photography

Bio: Ahahahahah! Yes, this is the Joker, single again! I don't think Harley is coming back after I pushed her off a ten story building! What a riot! Also, Batman is dealing with some personal issues, so I have no one to beat the hell out of me and because of that, I can't sleep well at night. Love's a funny thing, eh? Kinda looking to stay in the superhero scene. If you get your kicks by punching men in the face until they pass out, then please, send me an email. Must be willing not to kill even if I wipe out your whole family. Similarly, I need a woman that can handle being constantly put down as well as the eminent threat of death from a clown-themed source. I know that's complicated, but such is life! If sado-maschicism is your thing, then give the Joker a ring! 

Lore Building: Faeries

I'm currently working on another idea for a novel (superhero deconstruction), and even though I've put a lot of work in the Heart of the Thief, I'm not going to start a rewrite until I've gotten most of the lore sorted out, so be prepared for quite a few of these posts.

An excerpt from Peter's Apocrapha: Faeries: A People of Legend

Many a housewife has told a tale of a missing ladle or a sack of flour and blamed it on faeries. Unlike hobgoblins or poltergeist, faeries were once a real race, not so different from men! Of course, they had elongated ears that somewhat resembled those of a rabbit, and there is some evidence that they had tails as well; but in general appearance, they looked like fair men and women, though taller and slenderer. They lived before the Dominion of Man, perhaps soon after the Age of the Gods met its end. The ruins of their civilization are still found towards the East of the Continent, though many archeologists acribe their elegant architecture to the Emperor's Revival, despite their construction being beyond even the skill of Pallas's best. The Lung of Rankar is thought to have been their totem. They were the first to create music, and it is said that you can still hear traces of their songs in the forgotten dells and haunted groves of the Great Woods. What happened to them is unknown, but the Corruption is blamed, for it is the bogeyman that is always cited when something is inexplicable. More likely, they suffered some sort of plague or environmental catastrophe. We will likely never know for sure.

Lore Building: The North and the Mechanics of Being

The North and the Mechanics of Being

The technological wonders coming out of the North have prompted many in our ignorant lands to regard our distant neighbors with suspicion. The Cult of Rankar refer to inhabitants of the Laurasia as heretics, and the Council of Mages spews vile propaganda about pogroms in which witches are beheaded and magical books burned. True, magic is banded in the North, for the Laurasians made a choice one-hundred years ago to rid themselves of a dependence on sorcery, instead embracing science and mathematics. This Enlightenment is responsible for the many amazing inventions Laurasia has produced: steam ships that are powered by coal; gunpowder and firearms; zeppelins that float high above in the clouds. Critics say that the Northerners have made a terrible sacrifice, trading their souls for a godless existence. This is pure hearsay; I have met Northerners, and let me tell you, they are as human as you and I. I must admit that their language is strange, and their habits and manners much different from our own, but they are not like the men of the Shivering Isles, who are doomed to degenerate into ravenous walking corpses. Were we to do as they do, then all of Capetia would benefit! Indeed, it is inevitable that magic and mages become distant memories, for if we do not match the technology of the Laurasians, we may one day call them Master, for their ambitions are plain, and it is only a matter of time before they set their eyes on the South.

--author unknown