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Religion See other Religion Articles Title: In Defense of Degeneracy How long have I been asleep that I woke up and suddenly the Alt-Right wants to go full Amish? When did they lose their sense of humor and get so frickin’ uptight? When did their comical irreverence get swapped out for an unintentionally comical reverence toward all things our forefathers deemed holy? I realize that a lot of these whippersnappers are young and have short attention spans—call them “meme-impaired”—but whence cometh this seemingly sudden, undeniably hive-minded, and morally hysterical fixation on “degeneracy”? If you’re going to be a degenerate, isn’t your youth the best time to do it? Shouldn’t you at least wait until you develop arthritis to become a humorless, hectoring do-gooder? ADVERTISING inRead invented by Teads That amorphous and ultimately indefinable group known as the Alt-Right and I share many interests and sentiments, but the thing I liked the most about them was their brash irreverence toward the reigning modern pieties. We all unfortunately inhabit a world where if you don’t agree that imaginary sins such as “sexism,” “racism,” and “homophobia” are the worst breed of moral failings, you are an evil person who deserves to be shunned at best and murdered at worst. Many elements of the Alt-Right were experts at gleefully and hilariously shitting all over such hyperbolic and moralistic delusions. “You don’t beat the New Church Ladies by resurrecting the Old Church Ladies.” I stopped identifying as a leftist nearly three decades ago for two primary reasons: 1) the left’s main premises were counterfactual and ran purely on the fumes of raw emotion; 2) the formerly freewheelin’, free-lovin’, live-and-let-live left had become a viper’s nest of poisonously hysterical neo-Puritans who merely bartered old hang-ups about saying “tits” and “fuck” for new ones about saying “nigger” and “tranny” and “bitch.” The left can’t be defended with facts because trannies aren’t women, the genders are biologically different, and due to evolution’s pesky implications, the races aren’t anywhere close to equal. I suspect that since the facts aren’t favorable to leftists of the fanatical type, they revert to moral hysteria to prop up and enforce their narrative. What I hate about leftists isn’t merely that they’re factually dead wrong—anyone with more than one brain cell knows that the idea of innate equality is preposterous—it’s that they became so drunk on their pretensions of moral irreproachability, they developed a malignantly entitled arrogance that sees fit to hector and needle and hurt anyone who offends them. At some point in the late eighties, they began reminding me of the bitter nuns in the early seventies who smacked me around in the name of an allegedly loving God. As I said in my latest book, the resolutely anti-Christian New Left had ironically morphed into The New Church Ladies. That’s why it’s depressing to behold this creepy and humorless tilt toward puritanical “traditionalism” and endless moral outrage amid the brash young fash-wavers of the allegedly “new” right. Is there really much—or any—psychological difference between some pissed-off leftist who gets up on a digital soapbox to “call out” someone for refusing to date black people and some pissed-off neo-righter who “calls out” some “degenerate” for actually dating black people? Both of you are chest-thumping, virtue-signaling porcupines who should mind your own business. From my vantage point, you both willfully inhabit a nightmare moral Panopticon where everything is done for the Hive and the Indisputable Greater Good it fraudulently claims to represent. In other words, you both sound like total drags, and neither one of you will be getting an Easter basket from me next year. As I see it, the One True Path toward defeating leftist delusions and sanctimony is through reason and humor. Be logical and be irreverent—and for the love of Pete, because Pete’s feeling unloved—please dispense with the preachifyin.’ You don’t beat the New Church Ladies by resurrecting the Old Church Ladies. You can beat the left without having to ape their out-of-control moralism. It’s easy—just stick to the facts. Instead of calling a tranny a “degenerate,” why not call them “fucked-up?” It’s not only more accurate, it will probably piss them off more. Tell them they have a mental problem. Hurt them where they can feel it. They may not believe in your ideas of God and sin, but due to the fact that they all seem to have psychiatrists who feed them pills like Ritz crackers to a monkey, they apparently believe that “mental illness” is real. If you call them a sinner or a degenerate, they’re just going to think you’re a Bible-thumping nut. Mind you, I’m not even “defending” so-called “degeneracy.” I’m gonna be frank here—because Frank couldn’t make it, he called in sick again—I’m probably just as disgusted as you are by the surfeit of tattooed, pierced, herpes-addled, one-legged transgender mulattos sticking dildos up themselves on reality TV as you are. I’d likely agree with many of you that an endless empty quest for sex and drugs can be hollow and alienating and self-defeating. I even agree with some of your critiques that the traditional cultural bonds have been purposely broken by our managerial elites, and this causes much of the alienation and anomie that has so many people spinning out in bleak and meaningless lives. I just don’t understand why you have to get all Amish about it. The Amish are no fun. I realize that a small clique of you youngsters are goin’ all Amish. I’d suggest you keep it fun, or you’re going to lose the rest of the kids. To me your proposed cure—a loud, screeching moralism that seeks to drown out the left’s loud, screeching moralism—seems just as bad as the disease. A world of unrestrained debauchery is shallow and unpleasant indeed. But so is a world of unrestrained sanctimony. Although many of my beliefs have changed over the years—it’s good to change your views when better views come along—I am ideologically consistent in the sense that at any given moment, I’m going to side with whoever isn’t behaving like a pious, meddlesome pain in the ass. So if there’s any ideological orientation that you want to finally pin on me, I’m OK if you want to call me an anti-moralist, because that rings true to me. That’s not the same thing as being nihilistic or unethical, mind you. The main difference between an ethical person and a moralist is that an ethical person doesn’t feel the need to constantly SHOUT IN PUBLIC about how righteous they are and how others are morally defective by comparison and therefore should probably be punished and so should you if you don’t march alongside them in their malicious crusade of scalding hellfire. When it gets right down to it, I don’t care nearly as much who you are or what you believe as I do whether or not I could stand being in your company for five minutes. And if you’re a self-righteous bore who constantly has your nose jammed up everyone else’s business, I likely won’t last a minute with you. Lighten the hell up and laugh. Life is brutal and short. On your death bed, I doubt you’ll regret you didn’t point enough fingers at others nearly as much as you will the gnawing sense that you didn’t laugh enough. So before you die in a fit of shame and regret, I’d like to cheerfully suggest that you take that finger you’re always pointing at others and stick it up your ass. With the way you’re always talking about “degenerates,” you’d probably like that, wouldn’t you? Please share this article by using the link below. When you cut and paste an article, Taki's Magazine misses out on traffic, and our writers don't get paid for their work. Email editors@takimag.com to buy additional rights. takimag.com/article/in_defense_of_degeneracy_jim_goad/print#ixzz5GnodZQob Post Comment Private Reply Ignore Thread Top • Page Up • Full Thread • Page Down • Bottom/Latest Begin Trace Mode for Comment # 4.
#3. To: Ada (#0)
Not his best work, but of course he's not the best writer -- sounds drunk. Degeneracy is the problem, and others at Takimag are expert at calling it down.
When I worked at the fag florist they always wanted me to march in the Clark St. (Gay Day) Parade. But I never would because I wasn't that way. All of the designers had trouble with hemorrhoids. Is it any wonder since the anus is an exit, not an entrance? ;)
There are no replies to Comment # 4. End Trace Mode for Comment # 4.
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