The Saddest Place In The World?

A White (W/ upper case "W"!) losers-too-dense-to-recognize-their-privilege get-together where this sort of thing may be overheard:

In the lobby outside of the Polaris room, young men debated whether Ayn Rand’s message of individualism served the white race or fragmented it.

During a coffee break, a discussion about whether whites of different ancestry could ever live together in an ethno-state erupted from one of the tables.

Elaborate performance art? We ask because this is beyond mockery. What could possibly top that?

But really the conference was open to any number of overlapping topics that might attract disaffected white youngsters. Jack Donovan, an anti-feminist writer and “advocate for the resurgence of tribalism and manly virtue,” served up his shtick.

His shtick: Poetry, or a run-on sentence?

Donovan has argued that feminists are trying to create “gender-neutral utopias” that will make men into “doughy bonobos and chunky Chaz Bonos playing out their endless manic-depressive melodramas in a big bean-flicking circle of sterility, sickness and desperation.”

Whichever one, we are (easily) amused.

Bonobos?