Tag Archives: Jordan B. Peterson

Dispatches from Europe’s Hidden War With Jordan B. Peterson

Editor’s note: Jordan B. Peterson is the only Western correspondent in Ukraine, visiting the front lines and covering the ongoing secret war in Europe that the Western liberal cuck media doesn’t want you to know about! He’s been shot at by Russian-backed separatists and thrown into dumpsters on several occasions by Ukrainian military personnel, volunteers, relief workers, OSCE SMM observers, clergy, Plast scouts, and on one occasion, a live bear, although Jordan maintains that he got in a few good smacks in the process. Without further ado, The Heritage Foundation Presents: Daily Outrage Magazine brings you Peterson’s latest dispatch!

When I first arrived in Bakhmut I was concerned at the lack of steak restaurants. As many of my readers know, I have been on an all-beef diet for some time in an attempt to push my testosterone levels ever higher and suppress the chaotic estrogen which stealthily lurks within the body of all males, always waiting for the opportune moment to strike and take over their testicles one and for all. Ukraine has a noted lack of steakhouses. Many restaurants sell “kutlety,” which do contain a good deal of beef but are also commonly tainted with pork and other non-beef ingredients, which while indistinguishable to the palate, still leaves a virile male dangerously vulnerable to a surprise estrogen-led testicular coup d’etat. And because I cannot slap dishonest and wily estrogen in the face as I would surely do to anything else that might threaten my overwhelming masculinity, the beef-only diet is my only option. Luckily I managed to find a butcher shop that would sell me large cuts of meat ahead of time. I would be forced to cook my own meals over the next few days, but this was far preferable to failing to follow my strict gastronomic regimen and succumbing to the chaos.

My first impressions of Bakhmut, like my first impression of the Donbas as a whole, is that it is a very messy place. Certainly Donbas residents could solve 90% of their problems if they just cleaned their towns. People are constantly screaming about pensions, Russian invaders, and corrupt local gangsters, but they are unwilling to take the most elementary steps towards self-improvement and self-realization. As I always say, you must get your own house in order, bucko, and certainly the people in the Donbas should start with this right away. Things like corruption or a Russian invasion are just methods by which they shirk responsibility for the chaos in their own lives, and it shows by the mess everywhere. I tried pointing this out some residents waiting at a bus stop, and this incidentally it was the first time I was unceremoniously thrown into a dumpster by these ungrateful degenerates. They were indeed fortunate that I had not yet consumed my daily allotment of 2kg of beef at that point in the day, because if I had I can assure you it would have been a bloodbath. A bloodbath consisting of their blood, not mine. This is the way of natural law. This is the lion of order locked in eternal struggle against the dragon of chaos.

In truth this whole mess could be traced to the so-called “Maidan” revolution which culminated in February of 2014. Right away I could tell things would go wrong seeing as how Maidan was essentially a protest movement, and protesting is an arrogant and pointless endeavor. Arrogant because by protesting you are telling the world that you know how to do things better than those above you in the natural hierarchy. Pointless because individuals trying to change the world are entertaining a delusion since they cannot possibly change the world but they can only change themselves as individuals. It’s ludicrous to talk about standing up to so-called “tyrants” when one isn’t willing to just stand up straight, with one’s shoulders back, projecting dominance much like the mighty lobster.

lobster

A paragon of virtue who embodies the kind of dominant personality the Maidan protesters should have adopted for themselves instead of making a mess of things. 

By unleashing the dragons of chaos in their own capital, the Ukrainians have left their country vulnerable not only to Russian invasion, but something even worse- Derrida inspired post-modernist neo-Marxism. Sure, Ukraine’s Institution of National Memory claims to have carried out so-called “decommunization,” which superficially seems like it would immunize the country against such totalitarian philosophies, but it isn’t hard to imagine that decommunization could become recommunization. With their striving to join chaos-infested Europe, it is only a matter of time before people in this country are, like in Canada, compelled to use different pronouns and gender-neutral language, which may seem insignificant at first, but will inevitably lead to another Holodomor. Five Holodomors, all at the same time, in fact.

Some may say my concern over pronouns and traditional gender concepts is nothing but alarmism. But what if I were to tell you, dear readers, that the Ukrainian language, much like the Russian language, has not two, but three genders? Worse still, adjectives and past tense verbs are literally forced to agree with the self-identified gender of the noun they are connected to, even if that gender is neither male nor female but, as they called it, “neuter.” Clearly this legacy of Stalin and the Bolsheviks is so deeply rooted in this country that its chaotic ideology is interwoven with the language itself.

Getting back to my trip to Bakhmut, I had an opportunity to see many members of the Ukrainian armed forces. They truly embody a great many of the classic Jungian heroic archetypes, from the young hero on a journey of self-realization to the wise mentor and the mildly irritated vampire wizard. My only concern was that they have foolishly invited chaos dragons into their own army, by which I mean they have females serving as soldiers as opposed to state-regulated concubines to reward males. I wanted to warn them of the dangers of doing male professions and looking attractive in the workplace, but unfortunately I speak neither Ukrainian nor Russian, and I do not plan to learn as I categorically refuse to learn a language that would compel me to recognize three genders. From there it is only a short leap to the Gulag Archipelago. In any case I can only hope that the right-minded men of the Ukrainian armed forces will rein in these rebellious women before it’s too late, especially those three who threw me in a dumpster while I was trying to warn them about the sexual connotations of wearing lipstick via pantomime.

One warning I would give to would-be visitors is that public bathroom facilities are often poorly maintained, so plan accordingly. Naturally this didn’t pose a problem to me thanks to my all-beef diet, which allows me to go weeks on end without having to defecate. Also if you plan to give any lectures on the dangers posed to Western civilization by neo-Marxist feminism, you may be disappointed to find the young people inattentive and generally insolent. This one nine-year-old girl was acting insanely defiant while I was yelling at her about the virtues of arranged marriage and government enforce monogamy, and I was right about to slap her silly when a crowd of her classmates treacherously ambushed me from behind and threw me in a dumpster. Rest assured this is not over. Mess with the alpha lobster and you will get the claw.

As I rode the bus back to the train station in the nearby town of Kostianynivka, I was at least relieved to get out of the city after sundown, as it is apparent that this part of the country is almost certain to be infested with witches. And as I was riding on that train back to Kyiv, I couldn’t help but think while devouring my last chunk of raw beef that perhaps I was riding on a chaos dragon now, swaying back and forth as it sped through the steppe like estrogen coursing through the veins of this modern society’s soy-fed young males.

In the end I realized there was little hope for this land. The chaos has claimed it. It is a messy teenager’s room which no one wants to clean. So to President Petro Poroshenko, who so often demands help from the West against Russian aggression, I can only offer these words of sage-like advice: Sort yourself out, bucko.

Also do not think I have forgiven you for throwing me in that dumpster. You have made a powerful enemy, Chocolate man!

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