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Hagtivism

The Hag-Political Activism relationship is a simple one: as a former beauty ages into a hag, her bitterness over her lost looks drives her into ideological zealousness. The ideology she typically embraces is a toxic stew of man-hate, denial of sex differences, and insipid platitudes glorifying the lie that beauty is a social construct. Hagtivists are ragingly anti-Trump and anti-Heritage America, and crave the invasion of millions of third worlders onto whom these schoolmarm bitterbitches can project their disfigured maternal instinct.

Alyssa Milano. Ashley Judd. And now, Julia Roberts.

From Inglenook Hampendick,

Take one look at that face, compare it to the hottie from “Steel Magnolias”, and then you know why she’s blathering on about politics today.

TeeVee, Challahwood, and Selfie Media turned a localized curiosity into an enemy force — Hagtivism — capable of destroying civilizations. The hagtivist used to be scorned by her neighbors into checking herself before she wrecked herself; now she gets millions of attacunts from all over the world by other hags equally despondent that the Wall dared to take its tribute in full.

All these seething, ululating hagtivists love nothing more than to spitefully raze the elysian world of White men, as a final act of revenge against being ignored and discarded by a sexual market that once carried them aloft on a cloud of narcissism.

The days before the beta male thirst deluge and the poisoned “Likes” and the insta-fame, there were social constraints limiting the growth of the hagtivist population, but now those constraints are gone, and the hagtivists are multiplying everywhere, like Typhoid Mary, spreading their mental disease and front-holehurt into every cell of the culture. (cue C.O.’s petri dish gif….)

The internet has created a monster. Before the female equivalent of the Jumbotron Test was invented, aging beauties could gently and happily resign themselves to a life of grandchildren and manageably shrunken egos that don’t get fluffed past their sell-by date or inflated beyond their PSI (Pussy Stretch Index) maximum.

No more. From a too-young age, women in the Globohomo era of Lenses and Feedback are made to think their vaginas are Golden Clefts and their attractiveness is eternal, so when the wreckoning comes they are defenseless to handle it with any sort of dignity or wisdom. Instead, they lash out like stuck prigs, angry at men, at tradition, at values, and at anything resembling a societally healthy reinforcement of the cosmic laws. They have spent their prime nubility years with an army of lickspittle betas at their command and an iPhag gripped to the hilt, yelling “Charge!” and running full speed…straight into the Wall. No wonder when the over-the-hill bill comes due, they have no emotional savings to see them through the rough patch. Nothing in our atomized, shekelized culture prepared them for the reality of living past the age of 30.

When Trump said “Build the Wall!”, the associative symbolism of it hit a million screechy termagants right in the dusty feelz.

And now you know why they are hell-bent on destroying the country that has given them so much.

That has given them…too much.

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