We’ve all heard the term “lugenpresse”, referring to how the controlled media lies. It’s easy enough to think of them as mindless bots spewing biased narratives. Sometimes we forget, though, that they are flesh and blood people, too. They get lonely, they fall in love, they get caught up in the ebb and flow of emotional attachments which even they themselves often don’t fully recognize or understand. When a self-styled “journalist” is too stupid, incompetent, or lazy to pretend to be a mainstream writer any more, they may slough off to lick Heidi Beirich’s croissant crumbs for the SPLC. Sometimes once they sell out and land there, they stay second tier forever. And ever. Years and years, studying those in the White Nationalist movement. Making every intimate detail of their targeted activists’ lives their own lives. Developing a parasitically dependent love-hate relationship with the focus of their passion, often as not. Their whole raison d’etre becomes those they still try so hard to despise and not humanize. They scrutinize and analyze and polemicize and eventually are consumed with their fascination. For a woman, that fascination often becomes all too obvious sexual interest, bordering on a “Fatal Attraction” level of neurosis.

If, during that time, they spend a decade and a half involved in a Stockholm Syndrome-like obsession over a subject of their writing, they can eventually become unhinged. Especially when no matter how many times they pound out an article begging for attention, or try to call the person they’re infatuated with, their calls never get returned. The object of their obsession never gives them an interview. They never have a chance to make their fantasy come true. We all know what happens to women who continue to be ignored by their love interest. They crack up.

Susy Buchanan, in this fine example of the failure of our education system, contradicts herself on the color of uniform pants the ShieldWall Network Phalanx wears, as well as what a prominent sign they displayed said (even though the very same sign with the correct message is visible in the picture chosen to accompany her inconsequential article), and pretends that she has so little knowledge of the movement she attempts to judge that she’s forgotten her own writing fourteen years ago about Billy Roper’s past association with skinheads, as having been one himself, in fact. She’s going to have to get a lot more feminine to fill Mark Potok’s old knickers. Maybe estrogen replacement shots? Menopause is a bitch, Susy, and so are you. But the dementia obvious in your punctuation and factual mistakes? Well, that just doesn’t get any better  from here on out. You’ll continue to get less and less attractive, too, now that you’ve begun to age so quickly. The gray hair, the wrinkles, the age spots, the dryness; not that you ever had a shot to begin with, but at this point, that train has left the station for good.

Sadly, you can write about Billy Roper for another fourteen years, one hand rubbing furiously under your desk while you hunt and peck with the other, but your fantasies of being dominated and ravished by a Neo-Nazi are never going to come true. You might as well stop trying to call him, stop begging for his attention with your silly articles, and maybe tape the corner of your eyes back and try to get with an Alt Right guy, or something.

Face it, he’s just not into you.