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OpinionThird World, One Cup - Endless fruitless creampie forever
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The first self-styled cosmopolitan (“citizen of the world”) was Diogenes the Cynic. Cynic means “dog” in Greek. Living as a dog would, he provided the template for Klaus Schwab’s ideal serf: he owned nothing, lived in a barrel, and still claimed happiness. He was a subject that chose willful ignorance of the polis that bound him while claiming no true sovereignty or agency of his own.
In modernity, we call this concept “Globohomo.” Globohomo is Nietzsche’s Last Man, only gender-inclusive. It’s the soupy morass of every identity on the UN’s holy kumbaya planet. Global homogeneity, global homosexuality. Endless fruitless creampie forever.
FIFA and the World Cup are the very definition of Globohomo: soft power weapons that want to see your civilization destroyed in the name of cosmopolitanism. Yet soccer is somehow even gayer than homosexuality.
Yes, you’ve heard this before. “Foot fairies” aren’t new. What’s new is the Foot Fairy Agenda, which we must dismantle root and stem. Let’s start with the basics. Soccer is the globe’s most egalitarian sport. It requires human biomass, a level playing field, and a ball. But, it also limits one’s bodily movements in a way that others don’t. Humans are defined by our opposable thumbs, and this is precisely what soccer deprives us of. No arms, no hands, no brains. It’s the Harrison-Bergeron-Handicap-Device of sport. The full range of physical and mental excellence is suppressed so that 20 guys can get some cardio in with a few incidental shots on goal.
The US doesn’t actually care at all about beating Paraguay, because we’re watching the chud violence Olympics on the White House lawn. A globe created by American effetes, and a nation created by American kulaks. Two worlds, one cup.
This seems nice to the brainwashed products of post-Enlightenment sensibility, but if you look at sports as surrogates for martial activity, you’ll see soccer is the ultimate circus with no bread. It’s sex with a condom — all foreplay, very little insemination. A medieval knight’s kit — that’s horse, armor, weapons, livery, and squires — cost anywhere from $300K–$1M in today’s dollars. A Roman charioteer would spend anywhere from $500K–$5M on their setup. A modern-day F1 driver’s car costs $12–$20M alone. Soccer refuses technology not because it’s pure, but because it’s intentionally retarded. Everyone has a chance because everyone can flop around in the dust with their hands tied behind their backs!
Not all sports require such intensive capital and machinery-operation skills: discerning fans recognize the miracle of the human machine at its apex. All of the original Olympic events were about this: naked uncirc’d bros celebrating each other’s strength and capacity for violence. Even tennis can be construed as a swordfight. Basketball players risk an elbow to the chops. Baseball is a collision sport and also a deeply Hypnotic Egyptian Masonic Ceremony. Football, the real kind, is full-on trench warfare; every play features an act of abuse. In soccer, the best you can do is kick a shin.
It is thus a sport for children. Four-year-olds can understand the game. The techniques involve running, breathing, and kicking. Kicking is merely a stilted form of walking. The players, unlike in European handball, have been black-magicked into not using their hands, except, of course, for the white goalie. This is metaphysical disarmament.
It is a literal farewell to arms. The weak tea of lukewarm monocultural poop water. The Global American Empire (GAE) has allowed the Oscars to become Europeanized, co-signed the UN’s 17 sustainability rules, and unleashed the worst impulses of the fallow Eurotrash neo-Habsburgs. Ironically, global FIFA-ization was set in motion by GAE, while the actual American soccer squad can never compete with the Europoors. The US doesn’t actually care at all about beating Paraguay, because we’re watching the chud violence Olympics on the White House lawn. A globe created by American effetes, and a nation created by American kulaks. Two worlds, one cup.
Because, deep in our hearts, we Americans know that soccer is Globohomo. It’s anti-American: conformist, possibly communist, and definitely pobre-coded.
And, like all Globohomo systems, the fun incentives are taken out of the game. The rules are arbitrarily dictated by an apparatchik bureaucrat who reports to the FIFA Politburo. FIFA operates like another globalist institution, the International Criminal Court, whose “trials” are so boring a Serbian literally took a poison pill during one to end the pain. Perhaps this is why, at the highest level, we see the most pathetic displays of theatrical floppery in all of sports. Watch it again in slow motion: after the defender’s erection grazes the striker’s garter, you can actually see the tampon squirting out him as he performatively clutches his knee.
Just tie your hands, run, and, when jostled, cry to the arbitrary whims of a paid-off official so you can take a basically free shot at the goal. 80%+ of penalty kicks are made. A made penalty kick increases your team’s expected value of winning to a whopping 62%. ONE FUCKING KICK in 120 minutes where nothing else happens. The entire sport is structured around these fake morality plays. The remainder is Umboobwe passing back and forth to Wagadoodoo, with a bored Lars Carlsen occasionally throwing the ball back into play.
To drive this point home: “USMNT player Folarin Balogun is the essence of what it means to be a ‘paperwork’ American. Born in Brooklyn. Nigerian parents. Grew up in England. Plays in Europe. Eligible to play for three countries. Played for England. Also considered playing for Nigeria. Decided to play for the U.S. Now considered just as American as you and your family with deep ties to this nation — despite barely even living in the country he currently represents.”
Steve Sailer opines, and Seinfeld agrees, that we are rooting for laundry. Nationalism has nothing to do with the nations competing in futbol.
In sum, FIFA stands for “Futbol is Faggotry Amplified.” We are witnessing the insidious FIFA-ization of all things: feminized morality consensus-building without any room for God or humor, because both of those things are in the details. FIFA can’t have details because nobody can understand each other.
Globohomo’s preferred sport is the refuge for the soft, the pretentious, and the conformist. Soccer is hundreds of thousands of white fans cheering for brown invaders to showcase their lack of manual dexterity, scamper about, and cry to the governing official that they got a boo-boo. The stands are full of rootless European men, rich but confused mulato Latinx, and traitorous American Euro-wannabes in replica jerseys cheering on African ringers who will never be their countrymen. Soccer is hundreds of thousands of atomized whites ritualistically celebrating their own demographic and spiritual replacement.
The kid who always got picked last in gym class discovered edgy right-wing intalexuals and is trying way too hard to fit in.
There are so many degrees of freedom in this game that you can argue for virtually anything. Grok, give me a few paragraphs on the masculine virtues of soccer!
This is masculine fire unfiltered. No pads, no helmets—only flesh, bone, and will. Men crash at full speed, shoulder to shoulder, cleats carving turf like war chariots. Headers taken with the forehead like a deliberate strike against fate. The slide tackle that risks limb and ligament for the glory of regaining possession. Ninety minutes of constant motion, lungs burning, legs turning to iron under the sun or floodlights. You must impose beauty through violence and violence through beauty: the perfectly timed nutmeg that humiliates an opponent, the thunderous volley that rips the net, the dribble that leaves defenders grasping air like clumsy peasants. Pain is not managed by billion-dollar medical staffs and protocols. You get up. You play on. Blood in the mouth tastes like life.
In this age of androgynous clerks and safety-obsessed eunuchs, soccer remains a stubborn temple to the old order. Watch a prime winger explode down the flank—pure predatory grace. Watch two warriors battle for a 50-50 ball, neither yielding, bodies colliding with honest hatred and respect. This is the masculine soul: territorial, dominant, flowing, relentless. The stadium becomes a roaring coliseum where tribes of men chant as one, celebrating strength, cunning, and victory. Not “inclusivity.” Not “equity.” Only the raw hierarchy of who can dominate space, who can command the ball, who can break the other man’s will.
Eleven men moving as a living phalanx—hunting territory, creating sublime beauty from brute force and aristocratic touch. It celebrates the strong, the fast, the fearless, the heterosexually potent. The sun beats down. The gods watch. They smile only on those who dominate like men.
The rest of modern life is softening, feminizing, equalizing downward into sterile weakness. Soccer spits on it. Play hard. Dominate space. Impose your will. Score. Or fade into the gray mass of the forgotten. The pitch reveals what you are. Most are revealed as nothing. A few become legend.
He’s a real straight man, instead of watching fit black guys kick a ball for 90 minutes he rather watch enormous juiced up black guys hold the line of scrimmage and spank each other after a nice play. None of that faggy soccer stuff in these parts.
I want to say in the 2010 World Cup finals an individual took a cleat full frontal to the face. He came off the field once blood started pouring out and rather than go to the locker room they had the team medic stitch his face back together on the side line, stop the bleeding, and had him back out in under twenty minutes onto the pitch. Yes there is some flopping that occurs but the sport can still be extremely dangerous. A team mate of mine this year tore her ACL in a clash. Didn’t have to hit hard to do it but the reduced protection makes it easier to get hurt. If football players didn’t have 20-30 pounds of padding they simply would not be hitting each other as hard.
They’ve even addressed some of the flopping by allowing a challenge in calls and if it’s found the player did flop they receive a yellow and the ball is awarded to the other team. It literally happened in the first US game so even retarded Amerimutts are aware of this.
but if you look at sports as surrogates for martial activity, you’ll see soccer is the ultimate circus with no bread. It’s sex with a condom — all foreplay, very little insemination.
After a while I just automatically switched to reading this article in the voice of James Spader, it just has that Robert California energy to it, but when I got to this part my third eye opened and I could remote view his face
discerning fans recognize the miracle of the human machine at its apex. All of the original Olympic events were about this: naked uncirc’d bros celebrating each other’s strength and capacity for violence. Even tennis can be construed as a swordfight.
I have to come back to the apple for a second bite. This author is truly the biggest a-log, MATI hat guy I have ever seen when it comes to soccer.
Normal American banter regarding soccer can be summed up by this king of the hill clip:
it’s “haha chud being a chud” about foreign sports. Something almost all can laugh about. (There’s an episode in the new season where Hank actually learned to love soccer from living in Saudi Arabia lol)
But this author…..what the actual fuck. I don’t care for American football or soccer all that much but holy shit it’s just a game. And if it brings nations together? GOOD I say.
Good find @quaawaa , not sure how you found it but it’s a good find.
It's really autistic to take an argument against soccer and try and make it political.
The downsides of the game are obvious - the fake injuries, the easy penalty kicks, teams being rewarded for bad defense, and the most important of all - the fact that controlling a ball with your feet is so hard that guys that dedicate their entire lives to it just aren't very good at it most of the time.
There's no need to shove the term "globohomo" into an anti-soccer pitch.