Meet Christine Blasey Faggot

FULL TEXT: Milo’s ‘American Horror Story: Split Ends’ Starring Dr. Christine Blazing Faggot

Today Milo live-streamed the NYU lecture Bill de Blasio insisted the university must cancel. Here’s the full transcript of his speech, which began with him in character as Dr. Christine Blazing Faggot.

OPEN ON MILO AS “DR CHRISTINE BLAZING FAGGOT” WITH HAND RAISED AS IF BEING SWORN IN TO GIVE SENATE TESTIMONY

I swear that my hazy and incomplete recollection will be my truth, my feminist truth, my career-destroying feminist truth, so help me God. When I’ve finished with my opening statement, I’m going to request some caffeine, please, if that’s alright.

Hello Senators, students and the American public, and welcome to AMERICAN HORROR STORY: SPLIT ENDS. My name is Dr. Christine Blazing Faggot, you might know me from lying to the Senate. You might be wondering why my voice is so squeaky and girly, especially in a woman of such advanced years, but that’s how the strapping young man from Cory Booker’s office told me to do it.

As you all now know, I was the victim of a disgusting violation that still haunts me to this day. I’m talking of course about Dianne Feinstein leaking a private letter to the Washington Post, which has, I have to tell you, totally destroyed my life. I have been the subject of relentless name-calling in the press. Names such as “hero,” “icon,” “brave female warrior” and “voice of a generation.”

Indelible in the hippocampus is the horror and pain I feel at being made a feminist hero and having praise and money hurled at me by actresses, singers, college professors, journalists, political action committees and students. It’s been awful.

My experience over the past few months has been so harrowing it’s difficult to quantify, but let me give you some numbers. One million. That’s the number of dollars I have that I didn’t three months ago, but I do now! Six. That’s the number of book deals I’ve gotten offers for. And zero. Zero is the number of normal, emotionally stable people I’ve been able to persuade that Justice Kavanaugh sexually assaulted me, even though as everyone knows I had just ONE BEER. In case you don’t believe me, I have the beer here.

SHOWS ONE BEER

I’d like my caffeine now please.

A CAN OF MONSTER IS SLAMMED DOWN ON TABLE IN FRONT OF DR. CHRISTINE

Because I’m still literally shaking over it all, I’m going to hand over to one of the other voices in my head, who calls himself Milo Yiannopoulos.

As you’ve probably already gathered, this is not the speech I was planning to give today at NYU. Well, the good stuff later on is. But I was planning to treat the seminar with a lot more seriousness and appropriate caution, out of respect for my host, and the academic context. Yesterday, however, I was officially crowned the scariest and most censored man in America, when Mayor of New York, Bill de Blasio, insisted on having my talk cancelled and the President of NYU complied. So today I thought, fuck it. Thus Christine Blazing Faggot was born.

In place of a Q&A today, we have Super Chat on YouTube. Ask a question using Super Chat and someone will read it to me at the end. If it’s a question, I’ll answer it and we’ll go for as long as there are good questions. I reserve the right to tear this hot-ass wig off at any point during the speech, but I’m afraid we’re stuck with the makeup and tits.

Last year I gave a talk on October 31 at Cal State Fullerton and I believe I’m right in saying that’s the last talk I gave on an American college campus. I am so spooky and so terrifying to your professors that we now have to sneak me in under cover of darkness—in the back of a van. That was the plan today, until the Mayor of New York violated the Constitution, claiming, absurdly, that the largest police force in the country couldn’t handle one gay man in drag speaking to 20 students at the same time as a few hundred nine-year-olds at a Halloween parade.

So we’re doing it here instead, in an anonymous and, worst of all, merely three-star hotel room in the middle of New York. One faggot in a wig and the Mayor of New York sinks to his knees! I should take it as a compliment, and of course I do. I hear Cory Booker also sinks to his knees at the sound of my name.

The thing I’m most upset about is that I had these real-life trigger buttons programmed by my husband with a variety of phrases expressing offense, so I could stop my speech and apologize any time students thought it was appropriate. NYU has its own official Gestapo called the “bias hotline” which is the number students call when someone says something Republican, or constitutional, and I didn’t want to get my host, Michael Rectenwald, in trouble. Alas, they are now never to be used. Except right now.

PRESS PURPLE

Some people say I have a black husband solely to counter charges of racism. But that isn’t true. I have a black husband so I can persuade him to do really stereotypical things for my own amusement. And for yours.

PRESS ORANGE

Anyway, today I’m going to tell you why Halloween is awesome, and why you should save it from the scolds and nannies who are coming to take it away, telling you your costumes are “problematic,” “racist,” and, if they swallowed a dictionary or have attended a gender studies class, “toxic expressions of cishet white patriarchal oppression.” But first, here’s my new book, Diabolical, which will be available for preorder on Amazon this week. It won’t come like this, obviously, it will come as a proper book. I just wanted a lovely blown-up version so you could see how pretty I look.

Although I spent last Halloween in California, a very spooky place, since then I’ve been chased out of restaurants in New York by people chanting “NAZI SCUM GET OUT!” on at least three separate occasions, so New York City has assumed the position of place I’m most terrified to be in without twelve armed Navy SEALs following me everywhere I go. For those of you who don’t know, I am the interracially married gay Jewish immigrant who is also, according to the media, a racist, a white supremacist, a homophobe, a misogynist, a transphobe, an anti-Semite and a xenophobe. Which has made going for lunch in this town very exciting.

Alright. Why are we here? Like almost everything popular culture has taught you, the history of Halloween you know is wrong. If you think you know anything about it, you probably believe it is a mish mash of pagan traditions, mostly based on the Celtic new year, which is called Samhain (“Sow-in”). In fact, most of the links between Halloween and Samhain are were developed by Protestant killjoys—history’s original social justice warriors—who were intent on stopping Halloween celebrations in this country. Protestants in America in the 1800s were bossy, intemperate, joyless control freaks. Like how nasty right-wing people describe feminism or Islam. But you won’t catch me making such crude generalizations. I detest that sort of bigotry!

Besides, my issues with Islam aren’t about how miserable they always seem—my objections are theological and sartorial. And the fact that I’d be hanged in most Muslim countries for loving the wrong person. I want to know how they do it! How do Muslims get away with being systematically oppressive of women and murderously homophobic and the Left praises them? I’d live in an even grander house with an even bigger pool if I could crack that code.

Halloween is a Catholic holiday. It is actually “All Hallow’s Eve,” the night before November 1, which in the Catholic church is All Saints Day. All Saints Day is a day of worship for Catholics that commemorates all of the saints, and all people who are in Heaven, such as Margaret Thatcher and the Unabomber. This is followed by November 2, All Souls Day, which commemorates people who have not yet achieved heaven but are headed there. Like me!

Halloween is more than just a violation of order. It is a celebration of the comedy of Christianity. It is the horror of death transformed. Catholics are great at paradox, a subject on which G.K. Chesterton wrote brilliantly in Orthodoxy. Feast day is about venerating the saints, which brings into contrast what sinners the rest of us are. Catholics know God loves sinners as well as saints, so the Church is able to embrace weaknesses and humor as well as strength. This is why the Left is so miserable: they have no capacity for comedy or celebration. When all is chaos, there is no way to subvert—and so, no way to be funny.

They say the barrier between the world of the living and that of the dead is thinnest between October 31 and November 2, which is why if you say DONALD TRUMP IS MY PRESIDENT three times while gazing into a mirror during this period and if you look really carefully, you can just about make out the soul of a sweet Puerto Rican girl called Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez shrieking in pain from the depths of Hell. I did it last night. A sonorous voice informed me that the body of this poor woman had been stolen by a Demon who is currently using it to make a sprint toward Congress, intent on raining down hellfire and destruction on the United States by way of one of Lucifer’s favorite inventions: “Communism.” Anyway, Imp of Lucifer, Alexandria wants her body back, thank you.

All Hallows’ Eve is the night when the bones and relics of saints were traditionally put on display. It’s a night of mystery and intrigue. Mysteries such as: Who killed Seth Rich? Just how much will Donald Trump win the next election by? And does anyone really believe Cory Booker is straight? Because I’m no longer speaking on campus and therefore can’t get Professor Rec in trouble any more, I’ll add one more question: Which member of the Clinton family organized all that fakery last week to distract attention from the fact that we found out the Honduran migrant caravan was assembled and funded by a Democrat group based in a Chicago church?

The one costume I wanted to try this year but failed to bring together in time was Cesar Sayoc. I was going to have little “PAID FOR BY CNN” tags hanging off everything. But then I got to his critical accessory, the cargo van of doom, and I literally couldn’t find anything that looks pristine or new enough to be convincing. Did anyone else see that van? It must have been coated in adamantium! Florida sun beating down on it and the stickers looked like they’d just rolled off the presses. Which of course they had. Finally the FBI found a use for that My First Sticker Kit. I only got part way with the Sayoc outfit unfortunately but I did manage this pipe bomb…

HOLDS UP CHICKEN TENDER WITH SHARPIE SKEWER WRAPPED IN IPHONE CHARGING CABLE

… which I understand is identical to one left at George Soros’s house.

The scariest thing about Halloween is skeletons, not because they remind us of our mortality but because they invite us to look inside ourselves, and, of course, to compare ourselves to the saints—the only truly virtuous people. Relics of the saints are venerated in Catholicism because Christians believe in the resurrection of the body. Your identity, in Christianity, isn’t just your soul, but your body, too, which is why Christians are encouraged to treat their physical bodies with respect and care. It sounds almost quaint in 2018 to hear Catholic priests talk about, say, smoking as a sin, but this is why.

Of course, Catholicism isn’t the only belief system to wheel out desiccated old relics every so often for people to be scandalized by. The Democrat Party has its own collection of terrifying corpses, far more bone-chilling than a few dead cadavers in a cathedral crypt. Staggering out of their moonlit lairs to eat your brains come Maxine Waters, Ruth Bader Ginsburg, Nancy Pelosi, Debbie Wasserman Schultz and of course the queen of the walking dead herself, Hillary Clinton, whose coughing fits haven’t stopped since the election. No journalist has mentioned it on TV but I think we should cut the old girl some slack. Coffin dust really gets into your lungs.

Human societies impose order upon themselves, to hold people together. But every human society has also needed festivities—temporary violations of that order in which the population can let off steam. That’s because we crave our identity as individuals, but we also need to know we are part of something larger than ourselves. C.S. Lewis notes, at the end of An Experiment in Criticism, that every human being powerfully wants to maintain his separate identity, but he also wants sometimes to transcend it, for instance, with a love affair, by joining a march, by participating in public worship or seeing Mariah Carey at Caesar’s Palace, which I have, eight times.

This, by the way, is the reason the Left ends up mobbing people on Twitter and cheering on Antifa. They don’t have stable families, communities, friends, jobs or churches. So they have to build something to compensate. What they build is always dreadful, and it always impoverishes them, financially, physically and spiritually. Ronald Reagan was asked once about some filthy hippies protesting him with signs that said MAKE LOVE NOT WAR. His response was that they didn’t look like they could do either.

Halloween’s origins were festivities of “organized disorder.” The point was to frighten, trick, deceive, offend, be inappropriate and generally raise hell. But they were, and are, harmless. It’s structured fun, like at an amusement park. You might be scared for a second, but you’re never really in any danger, because everyone knows this is the night you give your inner demon the reins within the established conventions of trick or treating and frat house parties. The costumes come from Party City. The knives are plastic. The fangs are fake.

In Buffy the Vampire Slayer, which, as a gay media lecturer for the day I am obliged to cite, Halloween is presented as a gauche human carnival of drinking and dressing up. It’s the one night of the year the demons stay home, and Sunnydale is safe. The dark forces secretly inhabiting our world find it all terribly déclassé. Personally, I think Halloween is fabulous. It’s as close as we can get to The Purge while remaining civilized and decent. We don’t get to shoot or stab each other, much as I do sometimes daydream about taking a submachine gun and visiting the Daily Beast, but we do get to indulge in subversive imagery,

Because it’s about subversion, American puritanism morphs for that one night into American harlotry. As Lindsay Lohan’s character Cady puts it in Mean Girls: “It’s the one night of the year when girls can dress like a total slut and no other girls can say anything about it.” One of the best things about Halloween is how sexy it is. They have sexy versions of just about every outfit, and sexy costumes aimed at certain kinds of people. For Republicans, sexy means blonde hair, toned arms and a good credit report. For Democrats it’s just a name badge that says “I’M UNDERAGE.” Halloween is when you get to break society’s ordinary laws of etiquette and propriety. You’re allowed, for that one evening, to embrace your dark side, or even just inhabit some other character, and no one is supposed to judge you.

At least, that’s how it was as recently as 2004, when Mean Girls came out. These days other girls have a lot to say about how you dress on October 31. But they’re not policing your hemlines. They’re looking you up and down, trying to figure out if anything you’re wearing might be racist. These are the new Fashion Police, and they are more frightening than any judgmental sorority sister. Halloween has become the night of a thousand triggerings, when you can make an entire university faculty shake with terror just by putting on a Native American headdress. To say nothing of the media.

According to an October 16 piece, Business Insider thinks dreamcatchers, sheikhs, geishas, rastas, soldiers, Mexican Day of the Dead homages, ballerinas, fat suits, Hooters waitresses, Kim Kardashian outfits, Stranger Things characters, snake charmers, convicts, clowns, hobos, straightjackets and animal costumes are all “offensive” and “problematic” and the journalist Susannah Heller says you should stay away from all of them. I genuinely don’t know what’s left.

Political correctness, which we thought we’d defeated in the 1990s, is back from the dead, and it is proving even more terrifying and even harder to kill than Nosferatu. Halloween has been stripped of all traces of irreverence. Now, the issue is what’s “appropriate”– whether a costume is a case of “cultural appropriation,” and whether a get-up or party theme insults or even threatens to “erase” members of marginalized or oppressed identity groups. The Left seems intent on stopping cross-dressing for Halloween, which seems entirely at odds with their dedication the other 364 days of the year to turn men into women, women into men and children into desperately confused, suicidal genderqueer fuck-ups. Some schools have gone so far as to ban it entirely. Or they call it Orange and Black Day or the Fall Festival. They have even changed it to Hat Day in some places.

Social justice warriors have targeted Halloween precisely because it’s irreverent and it’s fun. These are two things authoritarians cannot allow. Halloween is irreverent because there is something sacred at stake; it is fun because death is not the end. The next day is All Saints. Yet rather than the traditional toying with danger and taboo, Halloween is in danger of becoming a night of safe-space-seeking. College students are now strongly advised by their professors to don the most banal and innocuous disguises possible, as a once-glorious and carefree festival has become just another “teachable moment” for campus tyrants.

The ironies and contradictions of Halloween policing are lost on our new cultural scolds. The restrictions on the make-believe come precisely as gender nonconformity and transgenderism are bent on consecrating an ever-increasing menu of gender identities, based on bare assertion and identity appropriation. The most peculiar thing about the Left in today’s America is how they hate Halloween yet they use their own bodies as freakish costumes all year round. The pink hair, the tattoos, the facial piercings, the obesity and the contorted snarls of social justice warriors are distressing to me not only because they foreclose the possibility of happiness for these poor lost souls, but because these feral lunatics are using and abusing their bodies, wearing them as costumes onto which they inscribe political positions.

The demons in Buffy stay home at Halloween because they find the human festival too gauche. But if they lived in Portland or Brooklyn in 2018 they would never leave the house, because all year round there are people turning themselves into unfuckable, unlovable circus curiosities because they can’t handle liaising with others except through the lens of their own political identity and assumed victimhood. They never come out of this character. They never take off this costume.

When a woman pierces her face to be “alternative,” or adopts the lurid hair color of her tribe, or puts on a lot of weight either deliberately, as a gesture of defiance, or through sustained fecklessness and lack of self-care, she is making a public, political statement. That’s why it’s okay to laugh at how gruesome feminists look. You’re not being mean. You’re not laughing at someone over something they can’t change, like skin color. You are merely responding appropriately to a provocative, public political position.

And they want you to! The whole reason they do it is to get a reaction. They crave your attention, because they want to be able to turn around and say “WAAAAH, HE FAT SHAMED ME!” or “HE’S A MISOGYNISSST” because you made a joke about how awful they look. They get to be both dissident and then turn around and use a weapon of establishment propriety—good manners—against their enemies. But they are not victims. They are aggressors. And they are abusive aggressors, because they manipulate their enemies’ emotions and gaslight their critics by playing provocateur and wounded child in the same breath. So please, feel free to laugh at fat, hideous feminists. They want you to, I want you to, and you want you to.

While the social justice Left insists on the right to turn themselves into Halloween freaks year-round, destroying their own lives and making ours occasionally wretched in the process, they deny ordinary people the right to do it just one night a year. Kind of amazing when you think about it, how much feminists hate Halloween, when it’s the one day of the year loud, obnoxious brats can go door to door and get handed free chocolate.

But we can’t talk about Halloween without mentioning the greatest boogeyman of all for the Left: “cultural appropriation.” We have established that Halloween is originally a Catholic feast day. The Left wants to appropriate it for its own nefarious ends because they don’t understand how culture works and want to ruin it for everyone.

The idea of “cultural appropriation” rests on a misunderstanding that external signs of culture, costumes, represent more than they do. The Left believes that how you wear your hair matters and that it can be “stolen” because they see their bodies and their clothes and their hairstyles as a package of consumer choices. It’s what they assemble to tell the world who they are, rather than an essential part of their being. Their self-presentation is based on a need for the world to know which tribe they belong to, and that supersedes any respect they have for the beauty and integrity of their bodies. No wonder they get mad about cultural appropriation.

Perhaps my dark alter ego really is a dreadlocked Jamaican witch doctor. 364 days a year, the black isn’t allowed out. Like my husband. You can’t say it’s racist. He literally fucks me.

But what’s wrong with letting my inner witch doctor out for this one night? Nothing. Where is the evidence that a white person in dreadlocks makes anyone around them more racist? Where is the evidence of harm? All I see is a lot of rich, spoilt white brats getting upset on someone else’s behalf. It’s ridiculous and it doesn’t deserve rebuttal. It deserves mockery.

We do buy and make things that reflect who we are and where we came from, and wear them to send messages to other people. But because Leftists don’t see any inherent value in their physical bodies, everything about how they look to the world becomes transactional and possessive. Hence their fury at costumes being appropriated, as though you can somehow be “un-personed” by someone who imitates the way you look. If you think that someone is made less than, or somehow wronged or demeaned, by mariachi costumes on Cinco de Mayo, it might be because you think people are nothing but their costumes.

The Left use their bodies as though they were costumes, rather than something essential to who they are. Perhaps that’s why they find it so easy to flush their unborn babies. Since they only care about their own subjective feelings, they have no experience of the life inside them as a human being of unique worth, deserving of respect. If they realized that bodies, too, are worth something, they might take more care of their own, and they might take more care of their innocent unborn children. Until they are born, and even perhaps a little while after, those babies are just accessories, or costumes, to their mothers. And costumes, as we know, can be changed. Or, if you get your dresses at the Planned Parenthood boutique, cut up into smaller pieces and sold.

This lack of respect for our physical bodies is at the heart of the transgender craze, too. Since bodies are, to the Left, merely vessels for our enlarged and all-consuming sense of self, they can be safely mutilated to bring them into line with our own derangements. The dark alter egos of transgender people are people of the opposite sex, hence, transition surgery. And like other products of cultural Marxism, transgender people want to be in character all year round. In that respect, when you’re trans, every day is Halloween.

The endpoint of all this body modification and dysmorphia is death. If you think the world has to be refashioned to conform to your fantasies or delusions, you are always going to be disappointed by the limitations of the physical world and medical science. No wonder all these Otherkin on the internet who want to be wolves and dragons end up hanging themselves with their school ties. The only supernatural reality that can satisfy the yearning in our hearts happens after death. And only if you’ve been good!

Unlike questions of character, things you do to your body can never be undone, and you only get one. Even the liberated Hosts in Westworld understand that life is meaningless if you get to do it all over again forever, which is why they blow up the Cradle, a computer server that contains all their backups. Sorry for the spoiler, but you should be through that season by now. That’s on you.

It is the ordinary, disrupted, that makes us most afraid. Halloween’s plastic spiders aren’t scary. What’s truly frightening is when there’s something just a bit off. You can sense it when there’s something a bit off about someone. Kevin Spacey always had that feel to him, along with many of the Left’s favorite people.

There is something off about the way the Left thinks about costumes and how we present ourselves, especially when it comes to skin color. Rachel Dolezal, famously, masqueraded as black. The activist Shaun King pretends to be black, though as a reporter at Breitbart I tracked down his parents, and he is most definitely white. And Pocahontas, Elizabeth Warren, pretended to be Native American for years. I can think of no equivalent racial fraud in the Republican Party.

All of these Left-wingers want to shed their whiteness because they think their bodies are costumes that can be refashioned for expediency or advantage. While claiming that “whites have all the privileges,” Dolezal, King and Warren demonstrate through their actions that they know otherwise. The same is true of Robert Francis O’Rourke, a man you might know better as his fake Spanish alter ego Beto O’Rourke. Beto tans to look more Spanish, though even the Hispanic Congressional Caucus aren’t fooled and rejected him when he tried to join. Because he’s white. These people all know that in media, culture, politics and entertainment, being white can be a handicap and being “of color” can be an advantage. So they put on a different costume.

The rest of us rightly see this as perverted, because we understand that our bodies are part of who we are. You can’t cast them off, just as you can’t cast off the centuries of tradition and history that have shaped you, even if you’re not aware of all the historical forces at play in your upbringing.

Obviously, with these new definitions of racism as something white people can’t be a victim of, there’s an asymmetry built into the cultural appropriation argument. You will never see anyone complaining about a black person dressing like Henry VIII. As with everything the Left does, you get to a point with them where their own rules break down and the system disintegrates and they end up with nothing more coherent than “straight is bad,” “white is bad,” “male is bad.”

It’s called “cultural appropriation” or “cultural imperialism” when a supposedly dominant group uses cultural elements from supposedly subordinate groups. The Left apparently thinks that black culture, which dominates the music and entertainment industries, is somehow subordinate, which says more about them than it does about black culture. But when you forbid this mixture, whatever the complex power relationships, you are putting both in a vacuum and robbing both of something important: the ability to learn and borrow from one another.

America, the country, is an invention of blacks and whites. The recent Hispanic interlopers haven’t contributed much beyond a few culinary items, certainly in comparison to the inheritances of white Europe and black jazz, hip hop and rap. Together blacks and whites came together to forge the greatest country the world has ever known, impossible without both of them and unintelligible to anyone who only sees one or the other. By complaining about “cultural appropriation” in rank ignorance of the way art and history work, the Left is calling for complete cultural ghettoization. That can have only one result: creative stagnation and impoverishment.

Social justice warriors aren’t really worried about culture so much as identity, although of course for many on the Left the two things are collapsing into one another, with blacks, women, gays and so on all being force-fed their own unique catered diet of politics, TV shows and opinions. What they want to establish is that western culture is simultaneously vapid and boring while also being oppressive and globally dominant. It’s never explained how something so comically dull could have taken over the world. The academic Left deliberately conflates Western culture with “white culture” in a way that almost no one on the Right does, to make it socially awkward to defend it.

Costumes test reality. The Left wants to limit them because Leftist thinkers today are only their costumes. Their whole being seems not just dependent on but almost entirely limited to their external presentation as female, black, disabled, trans, lesbian or whatever mixture of those costumes has been decided on. No wonder they are so freaked out all the time! The Left claims that identity is everything, but they want to flatten it to simplistic costumes that deny our humanity and our individual richness and complexity. They themselves deny the very basis of their identity as human beings: that is, beings made in the image and likeness of God. The Left is scared that you might put on the wrong costume because they don’t realize how much more there is to people than how they present themselves in terms of race, gender and so on. But this is such a depressing and two-dimensional way to interrogate other people.

That’s at the heart of what identity politics is: swapping out integrity, aspiration, discipline, nobility, chivalry, integrity and all those other internal moral and intellectual aspirations and replacing those things with the superficial and visible: skin color, gender, sexual orientation. It’s tossing out the contents of your character and replacing it with the color of your skin. This is about the cruelest and most morally repugnant mechanism of control imaginable, because it circumscribes your potential as a human being, limiting what and who you can be. Leftists want to give you a costume you can never take off.

When everything is as frightening as social justice warriors claim the world is, and everyone is as terrifying as these SJWs themselves, nothing is scary on its own because we exist in a state of perpetual dread. They are inflicting this on us because it’s the only way they know to bring order to their own disordered internal universes. They can make us hurt like they are hurting by controlling us and bringing us, if you like, down to their level.

In unreal universes, you can never be sure who is your friend. So many horror movies have twists in which allies and boyfriends turn out to be killers or psychos. This profound unease about who can be believed shatters trust and fosters paranoia, which is why progressives are all so hysterical and fragile in the Trump era. You never know when a friendly face will turn into a monster. Or when you will find out that your husband secretly voted for Trump. Those on the Left keep seeing their icons, like Kanye West, revealed as traitors and devils. Though, after yesterday, who knows with Kanye.

That’s one of the joys of being an iconoclast. You get to shock everyone, friend and foe alike. And everyone has to work for your respect and friendship. They don’t get it automatically because they’re black, a girl or “gender-nonconforming.”

Not everyone loves Halloween as much as I do. But because I adore it so much, I want to save it. Because it’s just not that fun any more. When the whole world is topsy-turvy, there isn’t as much fun to be had in playing at subversion. When there is no solid ground beneath your feet—when postmodernism has destroyed your sure footing of reason and objective truth—is anything truly frightening any more?

The Left has created a world in which white people can say they are black or Native American and we are required to believe them. They have created a world in which men can announce that they are women, and if we don’t go along with it, we’re the crazy ones—bigoted, backward and unsuitable for the general public. The Left has elevated fantasists to the high pedestals of culture and frauds to high office. The have presented the ugly as beautiful, and demand that we worship it. Amy Schumer on the cover of Vogue? Tess Holliday on the cover of Self? Are we out of our damned minds?

Yes we are. We are living in unreality. And now the Left wants to destroy the one night we can escape this awful Hell. I keep thinking that the most subversive thing you could do tonight would be Google some old 1950s print ads and dress up like the perfect, heterosexual, Christian, married nuclear family. Mom with an apron and freshly-baked cake. Dad home from a long day at the office, stinking of booze and cigarettes. And three perfect children, dressed not in feminist slogan t-shirts but suits and pretty dresses. What could be more offensive to today’s status quo?

But going trad for Halloween isn’t very exciting, because we’ve inherited a Christian culture of sermo humilis, God’s willingness to speak to us in human language, which makes the humble sympathetic. In Christian cultures, the everyday becomes serious and elevated in a way other cultures can’t appreciate. Nancy Pearcy, citing Erich Auerbach, put it like this: “Because Christ died the ignominious death of a condemned criminal … it became possible to portray in a sympathetic way ‘even the ugly, the undignified, the physically base.’” Catholics, of course, would say that the most mind-blowing costume of all is God taking on human flesh in the womb of the Virgin Mary. Human beings made in the image and likeness of God. We mirror God, and are meant to reflect him—but we distort this image when we sin.

As a lover of dressing-up, obviously I can’t get through Halloween without a costume, though this year I’m breaking the 5-year tradition of going as the former First Lady and appearing to you as Christine. Dr Blasey Ford represents everything wrong with women. She is the #MeToo movement personified in the sense that we simply don’t know anything about what happened 35 years ago, yet the female half of the country were ready to throw a man to the wolves. That’s what is so terrifying.

Even Daphne du Maurier never foresaw a world so dark and oppressive and scary that a man’s life could be destroyed overnight by a mere allegation. That’s a level of supernatural power not even the great gothic novelists dared invoke, because it’s too fanciful and unrealistic. Nothing in the The Monk, The Castle of Otranto, The Mysteries of Udolpho, Frankenstein, Dracula or Wuthering Heights fills me with as much dread as I feel for boys in Western culture, who are going to live their entire lives in fear of upsetting the wrong woman and having their careers and reputations totally destroyed overnight.

The mere allegation of one ill-judged drunken fumble by a clearly emotionally fragile person is now enough to destroy an otherwise unimpeachable man’s career and reputation, because it’s 2018 and that’s what feminism is now.

We don’t have time to go into this today, but if you really want to scare yourself tonight, try meditating on the Commandment everyone always forgets: “Thou shalt not bear false witness.” Bearing false witness is a bit more serious than lying. It means for instance telling lies in court or on official documents. Like Elizabeth Warren. The rules I was talking about earlier, that societies impose upon themselves, mean that we can reasonably expect people to tell the truth in formal contexts. But when unfalsifiable claims for which no corroboration can be found are enough to derail Supreme Court appointments, the incentives have been set up for both sides to lie to get whatever they want—at which point the justice system and really our entire society begin to splinter.

When you set aside facts and common sense and slip into chaotic thinking and postmodernism, it becomes easy to entertain implausible lies, because without clear definitions between things, it’s very difficult to think. This is yet another reason we need walls! Thus we had a sizeable portion of the country recently who appeared to be persuaded that an alleged drunken teenage fumble was enough to cause a woman decades of depression and mental instability, lifelong anxiety and marital breakdown. And we’re supposed to not make fun of this? Du Maurier never imagined such a world, where literally nothing is real and everything is false witness and disingenuous lies, but that’s the world we’re living in.

Bloggers and student activists who whine about cultural appropriation are the dumbest of all the social justice warriors. They have no appreciation or understanding for how art functions, and no grasp of history, or they would know that every culture, every costume, every work of art and every language is the product of an impossibly complex web of influences that cannot always be unwoven and laid out in its constituent parts.

They also don’t understand humor, or subtlety. Pearcy, in the same book, mentions a painting by Henry O. Tanner, The Banjo Lesson (1893), which shows an old black man with a little black boy on his lap, teaching him banjo. That might sound faintly racist if you know anything about black caricatures. But the painting was meant as a direct rebuke to the representation of black banjo players. Tanner was the son of a minister in the African Methodist Episcopalian Church. He complained that “many of the artists who have represented Negro life have seen only the comic, the ludicrous side of it.”

He wanted to subvert the caricatures, show the dignity and majesty in the everyday. How would you ever know such a thing—how would you ever find that out—if you had already marked the painting for destruction and opprobrium on sight, as the racist, stereotypical product of a white man who had no right to paint black people? How would you ever notice how tender and beautiful this painting is?

Like the guests in Westworld, the Left is living in a sort of unreality. They have never got over the Trump election. They wake up every day in a world that feels unreal to them. They believe things that are simply untrue, such as the fact that there’s a giant wave of white supremacy flooding out from the flyover states, threatening to exterminate blacks and Hispanics, and that one of the leaders of this socially regressive white nationalist movement is a gay man with a black husband.

That’s why they’re so angry and upset: they don’t live in the same world as the rest of us. They live in a mirror dimension that sort of looks and sounds and smells like ours, but is fundamentally alien to ours.

This is why journalists suspend the ordinary rules of reporting to hit Trump any way they can. It’s why universities try to ditch professors they suspect of being sympathetic to the President. Their horror is real, and shouldn’t be underestimated. They are actually living inside a nightmare.

And this is what makes them dangerous. Because if you live inside a terrifying unreality that you cannot comprehend or reconcile yourself to, you are capable of anything. You will break any rule, because you live inside a world where you don’t recognize any familiar laws or customs. That’s why Democrats thought it was okay to derail the appointment of Justice Kavanaugh without a shred of evidence, and why they have now switched tactics, and are suggesting, per two recent published stories in Vox and Slate, that the Supreme Court is unnecessary or illegitimate.

I experienced something of the same when I was wrongly accused of being soft on pederasty by a media who knew I was in fact the victim of it. I explain what happened in my new book, released today, Diabolical, which will be on Amazon any second.

HOLDS BOOK SMILES SWEETLY AND WAITS JUST A LITTLE BIT TOO LONG

Horror is a disruption, the introduction of chaos. The reason the Left hates me and Donald Trump so much is that our actions can never be predicted. We disrupt the ordinary course of things and refuse to obey the strictures of etiquette and political correctness. We are thus “dangerous” and have to be destroyed. When you believe that political positions rightly flow from skin color, sexual orientation and gender, the idea of an interracially married gay man who hates feminism but loves guns, God and low taxes is literally unreal.

Likewise, when you have constructed a world based on the fear of losing good standing, with mob rule, persecution and false allegations, the idea that someone like Donald Trump could not only exist but even be President is a horrifying, otherworldly prospect. They used to be able to destroy people they didn’t like by calling them racist. But then it stopped working and their worst nightmare rose out of the coffin of language policing and is now tearing their reality apart.

Since this is a lecture about costumes, let me change mine and suggest an alternative explanation for the importance of Halloween. I’ll try on a different argument. Perhaps it’s not that Halloween is a release, that we “need” to release pent-up pressure once a year. Maybe in fact it has grown because costumes do have real power, and that’s what we’re drawn to. We are all familiar with wearing our hair a bit differently or dressing differently to produce different reactions in other people. Social justice warriors know this because their entire life is playing dress up, using the components of their superficial identities as trading cards. That’s why they want to police the holiday: they know how powerful costumes in fact are.

Maybe feminists aren’t crazy for claiming costumes have power. Maybe they do have power. Maybe they channel energies. Perhaps if I were to wear dreadlocks I really would in some unknowable metaphysical or psychic way “steal” black energy. This is a pagan fear, but who knows? If you look at masks in literature and especially in TV, they are often shown harnessing or channeling power. If you’ve ever dressed in character for a play or party, you know what I mean. You can almost feel yourself becoming the character for a moment. If so, this is even more reason why we should not hand over the power of costume to the Left. We should seize it for ourselves and do good with it.

Maybe that’s why the Left cares so much about cultural appropriation. At UC Berkeley, when Antifa burned the town down and did nearly a million dollars’ worth of combined damage, between the town and the campus, I was due to speak about cultural appropriation. And today, when the Mayor of New York stepped in to prevent me giving a modest seminar to a couple of students, I was again due to speak about cultural appropriation.

So if you want to embody the spirit of Halloween in an era of stultifying political correctness, all you really need to do is be your authentic, iconoclastic self. Because so few people are really themselves these days, that not swimming with the tide even in a trivial and unimportant way, like wearing a “culturally insensitive” Halloween costume, is an act of major rebellion. You owe it to yourselves. When you go out tonight, scurry home and pull out all the stops. Do your best to put together an outfit that will really offend and upset people. It is your duty.

Dress as an Arab sheikh with a bomb vest. Go as a sexy Native dream catcher whose husband is a lay-about drenched in cheap beer with fifteen betting slips stuffed into his back pocket. You know, like a real Native American. Perhaps go as a hot Mexican waitress with an ICE officer husband dragging you around in handcuffs. Anne Frank’s always good!

Embrace the subversive, deviant, dark, forbidden side of Halloween for just this one night. Because if you don’t, you’re contributing to a horrible, destructive societal trajectory that really will end with something like The Purge. And you know what happens then, with all the people who have and can actually shoot guns let loose. All the liberals will be dead, and we’ll have no one left to laugh at. Thank you very much. My new book, Diabolical, is available for preorder on Amazon as soon as they get their shit together.

Milo Yiannopoulos is an award-winning journalist and a New York Times bestselling author. He is Editor-at-Large of DANGEROUS.

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