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Sunday, March 05, 2006
No mousse was killed in the making of this column
In some societies, chin cleavage is a sign of virility.
Not ours, but in some of the other ones... 
We haven't checked in witb our old friend Doug Giles in some time. As always, the best way to present la Giles is with his picture and his own words.
Parent, if you have a young son and you want him to grow up to be a man, then you need to keep him away from pop culture, public school and a lot of Nancy Boy churches. If metrosexual pop culture, feminized public schools and the effeminate branches of evanjellycalism lay their sissy hands on him, you can kiss his masculinity good-bye—because they will morph him into a dandy.
Yeah, mom and dad, if . . . if . . . you dare to raise your boy as a classic boy in this castrated epoch, then you’ve got a task that’s more difficult than getting a drunk Ted Kennedy to hit the urinal at Chili’s.
Get it right, mom and dad—you are rowing against the flotsam and jetsam of Sally River. I hope you have a sturdy ideological paddle and some serious forearms, because postmodernism is determined to keep your boy and his testosterone at bay. Yes, they will attempt at every turn to either drill it or drug it out of him.
[...]
First off, parents, please note that the cradle God created for His firstborn was rough country—a thorny, critter-laden and butt-kicking badland. God wanted His boy brought up in undomesticated surroundings. The feral fashioned something in God’s first boy, Adam, that Xbox, the mall and cell phones just couldn’t provide to the charge under His tutelage.
Yeah, God’s earthy 2IC was directly connected to the Spirit of the Wild. Adam lived in primitive partnership with untamed beasts, birds, big lizards and monster sharks. This is the way it was. And God said, “It is good!” Imagine that: good being equated to having no anti-bacterial gel, no bike helmets, no Trans Fatty acids, no poodles, no motorized scooters, no concrete and no Will and Grace. I know this doesn’t sound like “paradise” for postmodern pantywaists that are immoral, lazy, stupid and fat, but it was God’s—and His primitive son’s—idea of “Yippee Land.”
And while there was no 'anti-bacterial gel' God saw fit to provide hair gel.
And it was gooey....
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