The “Game” guys like Chateau Heartiste and Agnostic have a lot to say about “disgust threshold.” I’ve said many times that “Game” is at least 75% spergy bullshit, and the latter of those two links has lately gone all-in on Bernie Sanders (!!!) as the savior of Legacy America, but I think they’re really onto something here. It’s quite possible that “susceptibility to collectivism” and “high disgust threshold” go hand-in-glove.
An anecdote. I was something of a hippie back in undergrad, back in the Jurassic. As Leftism is an infantile worldview that privileges verbal agility, it’s all but guaranteed that Liberal Arts majors are, or quickly become, Leftists. So there I was, two strikes on me before I even got to the plate, and then I fell in with a bad crowd…. no, not drugs, and certainly not petty crime. It was much, much worse: Hacky sack. From there it was just a short step to tie-dye, love beads, and in general carrying on like a refugee from 1967.
The girls all acted that way, too, and if you remember your own late-teenage years I’m sure you know where this is going: Moonbeam and me on my ratty dorm couch, me rounding first base and charging full steam for second, when the smell hit me. That should probably be capitalized — The Smell — because if you’ve been around Groovy-Americans you know exactly what I’m talking about. It’s mostly patchouli oil, which smells like a tree’s dirty armpit anyway, but there’s also a strong component of actual B.O. in most cases. There certainly was in this one.
I used to laugh at those Viagra ads. See my doctor if I have an erection lasting more than four hours? Back in the days, we called that “freshman year.” I thought there was only one way to deflate a teenage boy’s boner, but there on that scuzzy couch, Grateful Dead posters on the walls and Phish in the tape deck, I discovered another. Simultaneously, I discovered the pain of mixed metaphors. This was what hockey players call “an empty netter,” but I just couldn’t score. Nothing — not even a red-blooded American teenager’s raging hormones — could lower my disgust threshold enough to seal the deal.
I’m not going to say I became a conservative on the spot, but looking back on it, that was doubtless the beginning of the end of my juvenile Leftism. From then on, I could never hear the word “public” without wincing. My hippie friends were big on public transportation — Saving the Earth and whatnot — but all I could think about was The Smell. So, too, with anything “collective” or “communal” or “cooperative.” Everyone who uses those words un-ironically reeks of patchouli.
Indeed, everything the Left likes smells bad. Their foodie “fusion” cuisine looks like dog barf and smells like it, too — except the vegan stuff, which somehow smells worse. Folks who have never known the joys of indoor plumbing are the centerpiece of their immigration policy. Most lesbians seem to be against personal hygiene on general principles, and while gay guys smell nice when in public with Normals, I can’t even imagine the stench when they’re actually being gay, if you follow me. Multiply all that times however many people there are present, and you’ve got the unmistakable reek of any Leftist gathering. It turns my stomach just thinking about it.
Is there any wonder these people advocate such bizarre, anti-social policies?Loading Likes...