Out of the Armchair: What Race Is Blair? [Part 2]

Recently I went to the Hancock County Historical Society in that northern sliver of Tennessee that the rest of the state forgot exists. It kind of makes you understand why East Tennessee generally sided against secession. This specifically is in Sneedville, Tennessee, a full county seat without a McDonald’s or a Taco Bell.

Hancock County is the area where the Melungeon people came from, which I’ve written about before. This is why I look like a Muslim terrorist instead of an Aryan superman. It’s really hard to find information on the internet about the Melungeons, so like a salmon swimming upstream, I traveled to my ancestral homeland of the Cumberland Mountains to lay my eggs.

There wasn’t much in the actual museum, though I bought some interesting folk-history books in short circulation for less than I could have wasted on an ancestry test. I did get to meet the local historian, a Mr Gibbons, who looks amazingly like my grandfather. Same skin tint, same bald spot, same kind of mole, and fairly similar facial features.

My actual last name is Martin, which I learned is a very common last name in Hancock County (and Tennessee in general), including an allegedly famous bluegrass player. My theory is that a Martin married a Melungeon girl and they or their descendant moved to southern Indiana to find work. This was so common that the Tennessee national anthem is about leaving the mountains to find work in the city. My trip to Hancock County only cemented this theory.

I also have to say that the people were super friendly and accommodating and seemed glad that a stranger came to town to learn more about them (and spend money).

I come from a family of proud cuckservatives who couldn’t bother with caring why we don’t look white. I doubt anyone even knows (I’ve read Melungeon migrants tried to keep it a secret because of the racial structure in America). No one bothered to research it or ask around, despite the vast web of great aunts I know exist. My father just said “we’ve got some Cherokee,” as though not everyone in East Tennessee does. And again, the Martin line comes from Indiana.

Before I wrote that the Melungeons were a tri-racial group that were the descendants from early mullatos. I now reject that theory. There was an early Spanish settlement in South Carolina with some Portuguese hanging around and using Turks as slaves. These were run off, and they headed west to find a holler where no one would ever find you. There they married in with the Injuns, and it appears they spoke a kind of Portuguese creole and practiced some form of Christianity, though it isn’t clear. When the British settlers found them, the people claimed they were Portuguese. That seems pretty convincing to me. There are also folk dances and pictures of clothing that are supposedly identical to what the Turks did and wore, and the word Melungeon is thought to be of Turkish origin, meaning “cursed one,” since God had seemed to abandon them.

There’s some evidence of Jewish and Moorish ancestry, but I’m not convinced.

DNA testing also supports this. I have a printout they gave me in Sneedville, but it isn’t available online. They said this book is the only academic book on the topic and that Mr Collins collaborated on it without credit.

But ultimately it’s a mystery to history where the Melungeons came from, and no pure-bred Melungeon exists, so they can’t do accurate testing.

Previously I claimed to be Black. Now I’m Hispanic and Muslim. I’m the whole rainbow of America. I’d like to claim some victim points, please.

Sneedville is in the southern valley from Newman’s Ridge. The Melungeons mostly lived on the northern side and in Vardy Valley below (as I understand it). There’s a kind of outdoor museum there that was very interesting and provided far more information than the Historical Society.

The area is extremely isolated, and before the invention of Rite Aid, people had to hunt rabbits in the winter to keep from starving. Unsurprisingly the people did not give one single damn about fighting a war for rich people to keep their slaves, as they were more worried about slaughtering the hog and protecting their families.

This is kind of mean to say, but in some of these really isolated areas of Appalachia, you can really see the inbreeding on people’s faces. I especially found this in the Blue Ridges east of the Tri-Cities.

You’ll also find the most depressing housing. Real Appalachian homes aren’t log cabins — they are beaten down trailers and vinyl on cinder block houses crammed against the side of the mountain. But don’t worry — they worship the television as much as you do.

I still haven’t figured out what these people do for work. The whole country can’t be on welfare. This was most stark in the northeastern Blue Ridges in Carter, Johnson and Unicoi counties.

In 1899 the Presbyterians built a school and church to educate and feed the starving brown kids of Newman’s Ridge. Notice the lack of atheists doing this.

There were four clans of Melungeons from whom later families descended: The Gibsons, the Mullins, the Goins, and the Collins. They had dark skin, but not really a negro tint. They were often very tall (my brother is 6’5″) and otherwise had European features.

The local hero of legend is a 600 pound moonshining woman who had 26 kids. They’ve preserved her log cabin. There’s a lesson somewhere in there for today’s America.

I would also recommend the Museum of the Appalachias in Clinton/Norris, Tennessee off I-75 in Anderson County, maybe half an hour from Knoxville.

Sneedville from Newman’s Ridge. The sight was better in person. You’d be amazed how hard it is to get a good mountain photo.

What’s not pictured is a part of America that cares about transgender bathrooms, Crimea, or whether Drumpf is a racist.

The enclosure was too narrow for me to get a good shot. I had to stand to the side of my phone to take this.

The Mahala Mullins Cabin. Notice the logs are planks and not the stereotypical “Lincoln Logs” you played with as a child.

The Vardy Community Presbyterian Church. I’m not sure if it’s still active. Looking in the window, it seems to be used for storage.

Read More: Armchair Anthropology: What Race Is Blair?


Miscellaneous Videos For Your Entertainment

Just some things I enjoyed.

And go to church on Christmas. It’s not enough to just say “Keep Christ in Christmas” if you don’t do anything proactive. Feeling guilty about reducing Christmas to a cash grab does nothing to make it less so. If you want to remove the greed aspect of Christmas, then you have to replace it with something else to do.

“My church doesn’t have a service on Christmas.”

Then why not check out your local Orthodox church? You’ve heard me write on and on about what we believe. Spend an hour of your Christmas seeing for yourself. It’ll be much more interesting than whatever parade is on tv selling the latest kids’ movies.

Anyway, enjoy:

Four Horrendous Pop Songs That Are Surprisingly Red Pill

I’m a firm believer that the red pill is everywhere, even in things that the creators didn’t intend. The red pill is truth, and to quote Elvis, “Truth is like the sun. You can shut it out for a time, but it ain’t goin’ away.” Terrible pop garbage music for 12 year old girls and 40 year old divorcees who wish they were 12 are no exception.

I would include the links to these songs, but there’s no reason any of my readers should willingly listen to any of this.

1. “All The Single Ladies” by Beyonce

Stretching the boundaries of what can be considered music, “All The Single Ladies” is a perrennial classic. In thirty years women will still be singing it and men will still be amazed at society’s ability to reward mediocrity.

The singer has been crying for three years about how her man left her. Now she’s picked herself up and taken her pity party to a real party. She’s glossed up and dancing with some stranger and calling it true love. She assures the man she was in love with that she doesn’t think about him anymore, even though, you know, she wrote him a song while trying to find some more dick.

I couldn’t write a more misogynistic song if I tried.

One has to wonder if Beyonce really believes in her bullshit. Does she really think this kind of catty spite over a man who doesn’t care one way or another is empowerment? My bet is yes.

The singer claims her former man is jealous, but I have a feeling he isn’t in the room and she’s just thinking about what she would say if he walked in.

I got gloss on my lips, a man on my hips
Got me tighter than my Dereon jeans
Acting up, drink in my cup
Don’t treat me to these things of the world
I’m not that kind of girl

Girls who say “I’m not that kind of girl” are usually compensating. Same thing with “I’m not into materialism.” If it were true, you wouldn’t need to convince anyone.

I can care less what you think …
‘Cause you had your turn, but now you gon’ learn
What it really feels like to miss me
Your love is what I prefer, what I deserve …
Pull me into your arms
Say I’m the one you want

I have a feeling that if he actually walked into the room that within five minutes she would be flirting with him again while he’s trying to talk to other girls.

2. “I Kissed A Girl” by Katy Perry

Rebellious preacher’s daughter Katy Perry burst onto the scene with the first overtly gay pop song. Lady Gaga also appeared around this time, and together they added the singing element to a long tradition of ugly women taking their clothes off on stage for attention. Soon afterwards Katy Perry followed up with “Last Friday Night” before making a slew of hits devoid of what little musical merit her first two may have possessed.

Except that this isn’t really a gay song, at least in the normal sense people think of. The standard narrative is that sexual orientation is something you are born with. You can’t change it. But in this song, she chooses to experiment with another girl. It’s done out of curiosity. She even has a boyfriend.

So according to this classic gay anthem (and any honest observer of the world), homosexuality is a choice and could easily be ignored for moral reasons. Especially since, you know, she’s cheating on her boyfriend. Dumb whore.

As I always say, “bisexual” is code for “slut” And indeed, 75% of professed lesbians have had sex with a man before. Lesbians are like neo-Nazis — they don’t actually exist. They’re just bitter dissidents playing dress-up.

3. “Blank Space” by Taylor Swift

The song that originally inspired this article marks a starkly honest point in Swift’s thematic descent from naive teenage emotions to reprobate whore. Such is the fate of all female singers. Fame monster indeed. Mamas don’t let your babies grow up to be entertainers.

Unlike the previous two songs, I think this was written from Swift’s own perspective. Give her artist points on that one. She’s the John Lennon of our generation. Kill yourself.

Taylor sees a new dick attached to a body and decides to pursue it. Then she drops a hard truth our society desperately tries to avoid like an ostrich with its head in the sand.

So it’s gonna be forever
Or it’s gonna go down in flames
You can tell me when it’s over
If the high was worth the pain

All relationships end in either a marriage or a break up. People say, “I’m not interested in anything long term,” and it’s naive. You date long enough, and you will get attached. And either you will ride off into the sunset forever, or, most likely, you’ll end up bitter at each other. Even with short term dating, it’s unlikely you’ll leave someone you’re having fun with just because her two weeks are up.

It makes me think of Meet The Fockers (or maybe the one after it) when Owen Wilson’s character says, “I’m on good terms with all my former lovers.” The joke is that that never happens in real life, perhaps something the 13 year old audience doesn’t understand yet.

And notice Swift talks about a high. She isn’t looking for stability or values or a family. She just wants some fun, and she realizes what comes up must come down.

‘Cause we’re young and we’re reckless
We’ll take this way too far
It’ll leave you breathless
Or with a nasty scar

We’re a generation disfigured with scars from the dating wars. In some sense, every break up and even the tiny disappointments after talking on OkCupid for three days is like a mini divorce. You are designed to marry your first crush. By the time you do get married, you have probably had your heart broken so many times that you can’t really give it away again. And so marriages are just like a contract instead of a union between two people.

At the end there’s something that sounds like it’s from Chateau Heartiste:

Boys only want love if it’s torture
Don’t say I didn’t say, I didn’t warn ya

Of course one could also make the argument that actual biblical love is about a willingness to suffer, so make of this line what you will. Most likely it’s just a dumb psycho-feminist pop song without any deeper meaning.

4. “Chandelier” by Sia

I struggled to find a fourth song. I really wanted to include Miley Cyrus’s “We Can’t Stop” because it’s that bad, but singing about doing ecstasy all night while a nigger gurgles through the verses isn’t red pill. Maybe the line about how only God can judge her is sort of red pill, but I doubt that she actually believes in a judgemental God.

Then I remembered “Chandelier”, which would almost be a decent song if it wasn’t played so much (cf, everything ever by The Beatles). I feel like it really should have been a minimalist piano jazz or coffee shop guitar song.

This song, like the first one on our list, is about how girls turn to partying as a reaction against brokenness. They don’t party to be liberated. That’s just the excuse. The real reason is because they feel enslaved to their terrible life and are looking for an outlet.

Women are controlled by many emotions, but happiness isn’t one of them. The pursuit of said happiness is close enough though. Women will chase that dragon into hell.

Party girls don’t get hurt
Can’t feel anything, when will I learn
I push it down, push it down
I’m gonna swing from the chandelier, from the chandelier
I’m gonna live like tomorrow doesn’t exist
Like it doesn’t exist
I’m gonna fly like a bird through the night, feel my tears as they dry
I’m gonna swing from the chandelier, from the chandelier
And I’m holding on for dear life, won’t look down won’t open my eyes
Keep my glass full until morning light, ’cause I’m just holding on for tonight
Sun is up, I’m a mess
Gotta get out now, gotta run from this
Here comes the shame, here comes the shame
One, two, three, one, two, three, drink
One, two, three, one, two, three, drink
One, two, three, one, two, three, drink
Throw em back till I lose count

However, what’s not featured is five years later when she bitterly curses those wasted two years when she destroyed her body and soul and is now unable to form meaningful relationships. Funny how that detail usually gets left out.

But this song does hint at it. The shame is coming. You can’t avoid it forever. You can just kick it on to tomorrow and hope it won’t be worse.

Read More: “Habits (Stay High)” By Tove Lo Shows Red Pill Sociology

What Is Muslim Heaven Like?

The various religions of the world are so different from each other that you can barely use a single term like “religion” to compare them. Athys talk about how all religion leads to war or are a means of guilt projection, but this assumes that religious psychology is consistent throughout the world.

For a small example of this, let’s compare Muslim and Christian heaven. Obey God’s laws and get eternal paradise, yes?

Hollywood gusses up heaven to be a place of rolling fields where you meet your long lost dog, but I think most Americans know this isn’t at all what the Bible teaches. Heaven is enjoying God forever. You will have a body in heaven, but it’s not a place where we enjoy the kinds of things we enjoy on earth. There will be no television or Shakespeare or barbeque in heaven. Jesus said that marriage (and hence sex) is only for this earth. For a better explanation, read my previous article.

Likewise, Christian hell is the worst possible existential angst for all eternity, and it’s a product of living a life on Earth that ultimately rejected God. Hell is spending eternity hating yourself and hating God and hating everyone else and never being able to escape the burning hatred and misery. It’s kind of like being a Democrat. Hell is spending eternity happily miserable.

In the preface to Fr Seraphim Rose’s extended essay on Nihilism, the editor writes about the author prior to his conversion,

He was reduced to such a state of despair that, when later asked to describe it, he could only say, “I was in Hell.” He would get drunk and would grapple with the God Whom he had claimed was dead, pounding on the floor and screaming at Him to leave him alone. Once while intoxicated, he wrote, “I am sick, as all men are sick who are absent from the love of God.”

“Atheism,” Eugene wrote in later years, “true ‘existential’ atheism burning with hatred of a seemingly unjust or unmerciful God, is a spiritual state; it is a real attempt to grapple with the true God … The Antichrist is not to be found primarily in the great deniers, but in the small affirmers, whose Christ is only on their lips. Nietzsche, in calling himself Antichrist, proved thereby his intense hunger for Christ.”

If that sounds appealing, then hell is the right destination for you. And the best part is that it’s super easy to get to. I assure you that just because you “got saved” at your grandmother’s church when you were seven that God won’t make you go to heaven if you don’t want to.


What is Muslim heaven like? Muslim heaven is like a really depraved version of the Manosphere’s fabled “Poosy Paradise”. Like southeastern Asia without the venereal diseases. Islam is inherently carnal, so of course that’s what the next life is all about.

Muslim heaven is all about sex, but Muslim sexuality is consistently horrifying. It’s never a traditional all-American man and wife in a farmhouse like some of the tards in the internet right-wing think. You don’t control your wife in Islam by being a man worthy of respect — you control her through brutal fear and manipulation.

The Academia Waltz Comic Strip for June 28, 2015

An estimated 90% of Muslim women have their clitoris removed. Religion of peace.

The 72 virgins thing is well known, but what most people haven’t heard of is that you have a never-ending erection in heaven. Personally that just sounds uncomfortable. But yes, heaven is such a cartoonish frat house that you are always in bone mode. Maybe Mohammed was compensating for something.

“Each time we sleep with a Houri we find her virgin. Besides, the penis of the Elected never softens. The erection is eternal; the sensation that you feel each time you make love is utterly delicious and out of this world and were you to experience it in this world you would faint. Each chosen one [i.e. Muslim] will marry seventy [sic] houris, besides the women he married on earth, and all will have appetizing vaginas.” – Al-Suyuti, Al-Itqan fi Ulum al-Qur’an, p. 351 [from the Hadiths]

This also answers the question of what you do on night 73.

How is this not a sex cult? And how gross and graphic is that description? Is that the kind of thing you could imagine a perfect and all-powerful God saying?

I get that this is a totally foreign notion in modern America, but actually there’s a lot of people in this world who have little to no interest in sex. Religious celibacy exists throughout the world and isn’t at all unique to Christianity. Like Islam, the West has developed a hyper-sexualized culture, so maybe that explains why liberals love them so much.

And you always have a Socrates-type who is more interested in deep thoughts than entertaining himself with animal pursuits. But Islam has no depth of thought, so they can’t begin to imagine what that’s like. All the “great philosophy and innovation of the Muslim world” was stolen from western sources after they conquered Christian lands. Best case scenario, Islam merely preserved Aristotle.

If Christianity is the 1960s Batman and Hinduism is The Twilight Zone, then Islam is the religious equivalent of Beavis and Butthead. And like the titular characters of Mike Judge’s magnum opus (and Mohammed himself), Muslims are thirsty beta males with no charisma with women, hence why they need this elaborate system of rules “from God” to force women to sleep with them.

Anyway, aside from the never-ending orgy, what else does Muslim heaven have to offer?

But give glad tidings to those who believe and work righteousness, that their portion is Gardens, beneath which rivers flow. Every time they are fed with fruits therefrom, they say: “Why, this is what we were fed with before,” for they are given things in similitude; and they have therein companions pure (and holy); and they abide therein (for ever). Koran 2:25

And that’s about it, fifty times. Welcome to the Koran. It has a tendency to repeat the same thing over and over. Most verses about heaven repeat the phrase “gardens with rivers flowing beneath.”
I can summarize half the Koran in three sentences: “God is one. God is merciful. God will judge the unrighteous.” I’ve read a decent chunk of the Koran, but each page requires several shots of whiskey and some serious slogging to make it to the end. It’s that boring and dry. There’s no philosophical depth at all. No wonder Muslims resist translating it into something its adherents could understand.

A very few other verses gives more detail on heaven:

For them will be Gardens of Eternity; beneath them rivers will flow; they will be adorned therein with bracelets of gold, and they will wear green garments of fine silk and heavy brocade: They will recline therein on raised thrones. How good the recompense! How beautiful a couch to recline on! Koran 18:31

Allah will admit those who believe and work righteous deeds, to Gardens beneath which rivers flow: they shall be adorned therein with bracelets of gold and pearls; and their garments there will be of silk. Koran 22:23

But the sincere (and devoted) Servants of Allah,- For them is a Sustenance determined, Fruits (Delights); and they (shall enjoy) honour and dignity, In Gardens of Felicity, Facing each other on Thrones (of Dignity): Round will be passed to them a Cup from a clear-flowing fountain, Crystal-white, of a taste delicious to those who drink (thereof), Free from headiness; nor will they suffer intoxication therefrom. And besides them will be chaste women, restraining their glances, with big eyes (of wonder and beauty). Koran 37:40-48

“He that works evil will not be requited but by the like thereof: and he that works a righteous deed – whether man or woman – and is a Believer- such will enter the Garden (of Bliss): Therein will they have abundance without measure. Koran 40:40

As to the Righteous (they will be) in a position of Security, Among Gardens and Springs; Dressed in fine silk and in rich brocade, they will face each other; So; and We shall join them to fair women with beautiful, big, and lustrous eyes. There can they call for every kind of fruit in peace and security; Koran 44:51-55

(Here is) a Parable of the Garden which the righteous are promised: in it are rivers of water incorruptible; rivers of milk of which the taste never changes; rivers of wine, a joy to those who drink; and rivers of honey pure and clear. In it there are for them all kinds of fruits; and Grace from their Lord. (Can those in such Bliss) be compared to such as shall dwell for ever in the Fire, and be given, to drink, boiling water, so that it cuts up their bowels (to pieces)? Koran 47:15

Round about them will serve, (devoted) to them, young male servants (handsome) as Pearls well-guarded. Koran 52:24*

In them will be (Maidens), chaste, restraining their glances, whom no man or Jinn before them has touched;- Koran 55:56

For those who believe and do righteous deeds, will be Gardens; beneath which rivers flow: That is the great Salvation, (the fulfilment of all desires), Koran 85:11

I guess if you lived in a desert, an eternal garden would sound pretty awesome.

The Hadiths** offer other information, which is just weird:

Out of 99 women, one is in paradise and the rest are in hell
Kanz al-`ummal, 22:10

Abu Huraira narrated “The first band entering paradise will be like the full moon, and the ones that will follow them will be like the best star in the heavens. Each man will have two wives of the wide-eyed houris; the marrow of their bones can be seen through the flesh and the bones”
Sura al-Nisa’ 4:218

Whosoever female dies while her husband is pleased with her, will enter Paradise.
Mishkat al-Masabih Book I, Section ‘Duties of husband and wife’, Hadith No. ii, 60

Muhammad reported that some (persons) stated with a sense of pride and some discussed whether there would be more men in Paradise or more women. It was upon this that Abu Huraira reported that Abu’l Qasim (the Holy Prophet) (may peace be upon him) said: The (members) of the first group to get into Paradise would have their faces as bright as full moon during the night, and the next to this group would have their faces as bright as the shining stars in the sky, and every person would have two wives and the marrow of their shanks would glimmer beneath the flesh and there would be none without a wife in Paradise.
Sahih Muslim 40:6793

This hadith has been narrated on the authority of Abu Huraira through another chain of transmitters that Allah’s Messenger (may peace be upon him) said: The (members of the) first group which would get into Paradise will have their faces as bright as stars in the sky. They would neither pass water, nor void excrement, nor will they suffer from catarrh, nor will they spit, and their combs would be made of gold, and their sweat will be musk, the fuel of their brazier will be aloes, and their wives will be large-eyed maidens and their form would be alike as one single person after the form of their father (Adam) sixty cubits tall.
Sahih Muslim 40:6795

The Holy Prophet said: ‘The believer will be given such and such strength in Paradise for sexual intercourse. It was questioned: O prophet of Allah! can he do that? He said: “He will be given the strength of one hundred persons.
Mishkat al-Masabih Book IV, Chapter XLII, Paradise and Hell, Hadith Number 24

Notice their heaven is entirely carnal. You get hot chicks and all the food you can eat, and the alcohol won’t make you drunk. They call this “the great salvation”. The purpose of God forgiving your sins isn’t to become fully human and reach the state of being you were created for — the purpose of God’s forgiveness is to spend eternity like John Kennedy. Heaven is the eternal Mardi Gras, so I guess Islam is also kind of like Catholicism.

And Muslims are also Calvinists, so maybe Islam is closer to (Western) Christianity than we would like to admit.

There is a very close connection between lust and gluttony, and the Hellenic philosophers used the same word, akrasia, to describe both. Both involve consuming more than you should because you lack self-control. This is also why most fat girls are whores.

Likewise, hell is a place where the fire is bad because fire hurts. The torment in hell is merely physical. There is no spiritual dimension. You have no existential angst. You’re just tortured for the sake of eternal justice.

More information on whether Christians and Jews can go to heaven according to Islam can be found here and here. Short answer: sort of but no.

Basically, Muslim heaven and hell is a Hollywood cartoon.

[* Surah 4, in an earlier British Dawood translation, permits rape of both male and female slaves, but the internet only provides Muslim-originated translations that leave out the homosexuality in this verse. Supposedly every fifth or so verse of the Koran is grammatical nonsense, so maybe it could go either way.]

[**All of these are from the entry on women. The page on heaven didn’t feature anything from the Hadiths, but I suppose sex is such a major part of heaven that you can find all the relevant information on the women page.]

Out Of The Armchair: Find The Cumberland Gap

I was going to include this in a long post I am planning about the geography of Tennessee, but I thought it might wander too off topic.

YouTube is full of frustrating internet challenges with no point except bragging rights, so I decided to make my own. Take the Cumberland Gap challenge. You have to

a) Figure out what two geographical features the Gap connects

b) Figure out what in the tri-state corner actually is the Gap and

c) Cross it like your pioneer ancestors.

Winners will find a large hollow on the other side where carpetbaggers can rape Dixie for its sweet, sweet coal. Latecomers will find every generic fast food chain instead of an economy.

You’ll also discover that the “plateau” isn’t super flat, in much the same way that the “Tennessee mountains” are more like valleys. Fun fact: Appalachian homes aren’t made of log cabins; they are made of cinderblocks and vinyl. So there’s another harmful stereotype debunked.

Good luck! The answers are upside down at the bottom of the page. Order the decoder ring from Armchair Anthropologist Monthly to decipher the secret message for Blair Naso fan club members.

Okay, can’t figure it out? Did you find yourself in a tunnel and wonder why the hell are you traveling through the mountain at a place that is famous for being able to go over the mountains?

At first I thought the Gap is the long narrow valley between the Cumberland Plateau and the Cumberland Mountains and that the purpose was to have an easy route to the lower part of the state with lots of rivers for FDR to exploit. Which doesn’t really make sense because the Cumberland Mountains (which are really just a series of hills that suuuuuuck) don’t go very far and you could easily travel the whole way through the Appalachian Valley from New York to Georgia.

The Gap is at the corner of Tennessee, Kentucky and Virginia. Kentucky is actually to the west of Tennessee at this point. The mountain — that is, the plateau — divides the line between Tennessee and Virginia against Kentucky, and the actual gap is about a quarter mile north of Tennessee. If you can travel from the village of Cumberland Gap, Tennessee to Middlesboro, Kentucky without going through the tunnel, you win!

Did you spend an hour chasing railway lines along one-lane roads, thinking you were going through something gap-like, only to end up further south in Tennessee? Bonus points if no car comes over the hills where you can’t see and kills you. I got my car stuck in the mud in someone’s yard. The residents gave me a taste of both the famous Scotch-Irish “get the hell off my land” wrath and “we’ll help you no don’t pay us” hospitality. Appalachian authenticity at its finest.

The trick is that you can’t actually drive through the Gap. It’s a little winding road through a kind of dip in the hills. Park at the “Iron Furnace Parking Lot” and follow the National Park signs. (The town is really lovely and would make a nice honeymoon if you can find a woman who appreciates this kind of thing.) Virginia starts right at the trail, and a three-quarter mile hike up the side of a cliff will get you to Kentucky. Which means, no, technically Tennessee doesn’t get to claim the Gap.

Then go back to your day job and tell your co-workers you’re a pioneer, who will stare at you blankly wondering if that’s in the Marvel extended universe or the DC.

I got thinking about how difficult this must have been to find when there were no roads or towns and everything was forest. You would see this V in the mountain and start climbing up the side, just hoping you could get through and it wouldn’t be a rock wall.

My ancestors weren’t immigrants — they were settlers. The Italians, Germans and Irish didn’t conquer the mountains under constant threat of feral Indians. Catholics and Anglicans are too soft to manifest destiny in the wilderness. Jews and Greeks especially. This country was literally built by the Scots-Irish.

Behind me is Virginia:

Behind me is Kentucky:

Tennessee, Virginia, and North Carolina:

Cumberland Gap, Tennessee:

Kentucky: Grab it by the pussy:

Middlesboro closer up. You know, on top of the “plateau”:

Should I Go To My High School Reunion?

This coming spring is the tenth anniversary of graduating high school. I’m assuming there will be a reunion, but I haven’t heard anything. Knowing who the class president was and the music career he’s built, I can’t blame him for not caring.

I hated high school and hated most of the other students. The few I kept up with over Facebook I have since had a falling out with. Does this tradition really need to carry on in the age of the internet? What’s the purpose of seeing people who made a point to quit talking to me five years ago?

And most of my friends in high school were a little older or younger anyway. If I’m making a point to see high school acquaintances that I didn’t care enough about to keep talking to three years later, it should at least be broader than just the people who graduated in 2009.

I thought a lot about whether I should go. I was the biggest loser in school (or at least how I remember it, but I’m usually hard on myself when looking back several years). If I go to demonstrate how much of a non-loser I am now, then I’ll still be measuring myself by how I was as a teenager. If I refuse to attend because I don’t care what those people think, then I’m still making decisions based on how much of a loser I was in high school.

I brought this dilemma up to a friend. What’s the integrity thing to do?

“If you want to see those people again, go. If not, then don’t.”

I don’t want to see those people again. That’s a good enough reason for me. Problem solved. Moral crisis averted.

The 1960s Batman Is Red Pill As Fuck

Lately I’ve been watching the old 1966 Batman series. I’m about halfway through.

A few years ago I got some friends together to watch it, and we laughed uproariously at how stupid it was. We didn’t realize that’s the whole point. The show was written as a comedy, not a serious look at the characters. It’s making fun of the mid-century idealism and the overly simple morality.

Some commentators today claim that the series was encouraging wholesome morality to combat the craziness of the 60s, but it seems to me that they were making fun of both sides. The point is to make fun of simple morality, which both the radical revolutionaries and the RFK professionals had. The former thought you fix society with riots, and the latter with education and legislation. Both were naive, and we’re still living in the hangover of it. The show isn’t exactly conservative, and maybe it isn’t quite anti-liberal, but it is definitely skeptical of the new trendy progress.

“Keep in mind, Robin, that most politicians are honest servants of the people. The dishonest ones are the exception.”

Does that sound like a serious lesson to viewers or the dryest of all satire?

Comedy today, especially for children’s television, is bitchy fags insulting each other and cheap slapstick humor propped up with a laugh track. There’s no cleverness to it. There’s no substance. Comedy is just poo emojis.


The Batman series is incredibly red pill. It would never get made today, if for no other reason than the fighting style. Only the men fight. Once the boys are done duking it out, the women meekly submit to the long arm of the law. And there’s no cutaways, CGI or implausible acrobatics. Just raw fisticuffs and a few thrown props.

Batman enforces the law mostly with his fists alone, which is completely opposite of today’s superhero movies. Today heroes have some special power or training that makes them the masters of the universe, and we are just grateful human peasants who can be discarded like cattle for the greater good if the battle so requires it. It always bothered me in The Dark Knight when the Batmobile blows up a toll booth in the parking garage for no reason. There’s especially nothing aspirational about Marvel movies. It’s just cosmic feudalism.

The old Batman series would be decried for its toxic masculinity, gender imbalance, and encouragement of violence if it were made today. But aren’t those things exactly that which make old television so great?

There’s so many lessons about men and women. Catwoman uses her innocent charm to deceive otherwise good men into doing what she wants. Julie Newmar as Catwoman isn’t just attractive. She’s got that girl charisma that just doesn’t exist anymore. She is indisputably the hottest woman in the history of film and would be my waifu if I were that kind of loser.

This is not a show that encourages homosexuality.

“Women tend to believe what they want to believe,” says Alfred, encouraging Commissioner Gordon and Police Chief O’Hara to lie to their wives after they were put under a love potion. And they’re totally dismissive because he’s never been married, all the while still unsure how they could possibly explain what happened. I encounter that all the time. I give awesome advice, and people are all like, “But I love her.”

And maybe the advice he gave isn’t the right thing to do, and maybe it could create problems down the road, but that quote itself, “Women tend to believe what they want to believe,” is absolutely true. I’ve written myself that women believe the lies they wish were true. They are expert bullshit detectors until you tell them whatever stupid fantasy they have is about to happen (c.f., the 2008 election).

That being said, Catwoman is the kind of girl who gets her looks just right in public and then when you finally get in bed her tits flop weird and she’s got a dolphin tattoo that looks like a whale and her hooba stanks. And then she won’t stop babbling about absolutely nothing and has the weirdest tics. She must be a nightmare to watch a movie with. In real life, girls who wear cat ears are fat and annoying.

But as I’ve also written before, sexual attraction is about mystery, not reality. The appeal in Catwoman is that you don’t know exactly what she is like. You don’t know what is in her head, and you don’t know just how perfect that perfect hourglass figure is.

By the way, my new pick up line: “Hey pussy cat, pussy cat, pussy cat. I’m going to be your dog.” Maybe I can get a girlfriend who will dress in purple spandex and a cape just because I told her to. Or like a queen of the nile thing.

A lot of people have tried to claim that Batman and Robin are gay. I’m not seeing that element there at all. What I see is a selfless wealthy man mentoring a young orphan, which in our society is usually assumed to be homoerotic. If an older man pats a teenager on the shoulder, is that a friendly gesture or a sexual advance? We don’t know.

And there are constant references to how Dick Grayson is too young to like girls, so anyone who is claiming Bruce has a sexual relationship with him is a sick pervert. It really says a lot about the homosexual subculture.

Also, there’s a naked woman in Mr Freeze’s lair with a skin-colored leotard that makes it look like her parts are blurred. Wasn’t this a kids show?

This iteration of Gotham City is paradise. It’s almost entirely white, the civil servants have golden motivations, most citizens are honest and selfless, there is a flourishing of the arts and sciences, and all the women are beautiful conservative types in tight spandex. There are archvillains running around trying to steal some jewels, but there doesn’t seem to be many pick pockets. If I could live in any fictional universe, it would be the 1966 Gotham City. It’s like everything Detroit was promised to be.


But morality aside, once you understand how to watch it, it’s hilariously entertaining. Frank Gorshin as the Riddler was nominated for an Emmy back when that meant something. Whatever drugs he was on, I don’t think they make them anymore.

The sound editing team was also nominated. It’s amazing how they could harmonize half-steps and have it fit really well. The main theme has a great background pulse that’s never noticed. If you’ve got a strong musical background, there’s a lot to love.

Another interesting touch is the Dutch angle, where the villains’ lairs are always shot crookedly. The one time Penguin steals the Batmobile, they also shot it in the Dutch angle, which is hilarious if you are looking for it. The sets are amazingly cheap looking, and I think it was on purpose. So also a lot of interesting cinematography.

Burt Ward has a memoir called My Life In Tights. Which is funny, because that’s the name of the unauthorized Blair Naso biography I commissioned.

And the variations are so clever, even the original villains. Same plot with different details, like if MadLibs was a tv show. There’s one with a hillbilly crime family. Another has a Robin Hood wannabe. A fan favorite involves a failed novelist who uses plots from books to plan his crimes.

There’s an episode where Penguin is getting married so he can steal the wedding gifts. He arranges for a water pipe to burst, causing it to rain indoors, and then he gives all the guests umbrellas. It looks like something out of a Beatles song.

Yes, that would be really dumb if you put it into a movie. But just thinking about it by itself, that’s pretty unique. Raining indoors so you can steal wedding gifts and crash your own wedding. That’s original. This wasn’t a stale show at all.

My favorite episode is the one with Egghead. Centuries ago Bruce’s family and two others bought Gotham Rock for nine raccoon pelts from the Mohican Indians. Now every year their descendants have to pay that as a lease. The last of the Mohicans, Chief Screaming Chicken, owns a stand on the side of the road that sells blankets, tacos, and pizza. Egghead kidnaps the millionaires and prevents them paying the rent, and the chief rents the city to Egghead, who goes on a looting spree while the cops do nothing. Egghead promises him a monopoly on “American Indian rugs made in Japan.” Later the chief regrets this and says “My face is so red.”, And there’s a bunch of jokes throughout about being an Indian giver. Also, Batman tells us not to be racist.

There’s an episode where Penguin desperately tries to get into the state penitentiary to connect with a master forger. Batman at first refuses to arrest him but then puts him in city jail like a petty thief, just to fuck with his pride. Finally Penguin is on trial for trying to drown and electrocute the police chief. He argues that Batman denied him his right to be arrested. The liberal judge considers this ridiculous argument and says that Penguin is right. Penguin is elated until he learns that this means he is acquitted on a technicality and will still not go to prison.

That’s comedy right there. Is it a dumb scenario that would be an assault on the mind in any other context? Yes, that’s the point. It is played masterfully in a show trying to demonstrate how dumb the simple idealistic world of comic books and mid-century idealism is.

In another episode, Penguin is running for mayor. There’s a third party monarchist called Harry Goldwinner. I guess the writers voted for Johnson.

Batman runs against him. He lectures Robin about the importance of running on issues and not showmanship while staring forward at the camera, as though he’s trying to lecture us. Pengiun hires a belly dancer for his campaign, again refuting any notion that this show is gay.

Batman refuses to kiss a baby because of the obvious health concerns. The parents are offended, because they think he said their baby is dirty. Penguin immediately slanders him as a child hater. Two years later Nixon will sabotage peace talks in Paris in order to get elected.

In another episode, Aunt Harriet says Bruce’s great grandfather founded skull and bones. So apparently he’s a Republican.

Batman knocks out Gordon to take him to the Batcave. When they’re done and he’s about to knock him out again, he says, “I’ll call chief O’hara and tell him where to find you along the roadside”, and Gordon is totally fine with being left by the side of the road passed out on roofies.

Robin gives a speech to a high school about respecting the police force, and the crowd cheers like it’s a Donald Trump concert. You know the film crew was dying of laughter.

Catwoman has Batman on his knees about to shoot him. “Can’t you see how I want you” [points downward] “by my side.” The small subtle details. Again, wasn’t this a kids’ show?

Another Penguin episode. He’s pretending to have become a crime fighter. Gordon and O’Hara do some pretty illegal intimidating of the suspect in interrogation. Then Alfred tries to poison Penguin. Then Batman and Robin break and enter this rich woman’s house to replace jewels with some kind of fake. All of this based on a hunch without any real evidence. You could almost see it as a defense of police brutality, much how the Nolan movies kind of were a defense of Bush.


Get some stoner friends together and watch some Batman. It’s light and fun and won’t make you think too much, but it’s missing all of the poz of modern television. It’s a golden fantasy land where men are men and women are women. Where people are valued for their virtues and intelligence, and everyone has a real sense of social responsibility. Where integrity is rewarded and mediocrity is shunned. And, you know, Julie Newmar as Catwoman.