The white middle class in this country is dying. From the implosion of our manufacturing sector to the dramatic rise in morbidity rates, every statistic tells the same tragic story. And Hollywood, that trillion-dollar bastion of the American dream, refuses to address this horrific crisis. Who will write the epitaph when this demographic is but a vague, angry memory half a century from now?
Zach Galifianakis and his handlers over at the FX television station certainly aren’t composing that elegy with their reprehensible new drama, “Baskets.” Maybe we shouldn’t be surprised by this fact, since Mr. Galifianakis is a well known beta-male California Marxist strawman whose entire career has been spent ridiculing genuine American masculinity by his very existence.
Yet this cloying caveman charlatan isn’t even the worst example of the New World Order’s plot to destroy the traditional Christian family on “Baskets.” That honor goes to X-rated comic Louie Anderson, who plays an infuriatingly saccharine mother on the program. With his cross-dressing pantomime, Anderson joins the ranks of BD Wong, RuPaul and Jeffrey Tambor in waging an all-out assault against motherhood this primetime season.
Slobbering Clowns for a Brave New World
What upsets some viewers the most about Christine Baskets, the persona Anderson jiggles into each week, is that she is little more than a two-dimensional fantasy. She is the same archliberal chimerical mamacita that the mainstream media has been stuffing down our throats for decades now. Many of us were sold this false bill of goods growing up. Worse still, many children with absentee parents are being sold this same bill of goods today and characters like Anderson’s may be the only actual adult figures in their lives.
But Christine Baskets is in no way real. While her girth and attire may feel genuine, she lacks the sense of abject failure that defines real motherhood in these turbulent times. She is devoid of that dangerous mix of self-destructive narcissism and utter inner weakness that the feminist 1970s injected into our national community. These types of women suffer from grandiose visions of their own self worth, while being complete deadbeats in the domestic world. Their husbands, after years spent in loveless marriages, throw aside any pretense of passive aggressiveness towards the end. They become openly hostile and that turns home life into a disaster that accurately reflects the disaster of our civilization under the jackboots of leftwing cultural imperialism.
Unable to stand up for themselves, the mothers in real America turn inward. Their hearts harden. They drink. The smell of syrupy booze at 2pm mixes poorly with discounted Wal-Mart perfumes. They sit all day in ugly chairs, barking at soap opera utopias. And when their children make the effort to visit — and you don’t realize what a huge effort that is — you are nothing but unpleasant. You erupt! You blame us for 27 years of burden, as if your own cowardice wasn’t the reason you didn’t go back to work after we were born? And you even had those checks from your parents and your own mother willing to look after her grandkids but you blame me for your failure to become a dancer who ages gracefully into the role of choreographer with her own “avant-garde” company in some big city like Atlanta or Dallas? Was that even realistic considering what a fat-legged, petty little woman you are?
Why doesn’t modern American television show us that? Why doesn’t it depict the logical conclusion of radical feminism and how it has undermined real families with reckless dreams of “empowerment” while turning mothers away from their domestic responsibilities? And when that happens, it’s only natural your kids rebel and hate you from an early age because they, too, smell the stink of your weakness and they despise the fact that you’ve turned your back on God and country to play the socialist harlot and even if Dad cheated on you, he probably had every right because you’ve just become so painfully exhausting in your kneejerk liberalism and do you really have to fight with me over every single thing just because I’m trying to bring Jesus into your miserable life?
For these and many other reasons, Louie Anderson will only outrage the American public. He had the opportunity to expose primetime television for what it truly is. He had a chance to reveal what the Democratic Party is like behind their mask of feel-good progressivism. He might have even made a poignant elegy for the dying white middle class, a group of people who have been completely eviscerated under the extremist policies of our corrupt government oligarchs.
“Baskets” literally stomped down a stunning possibility. The show could have made brave statements about feminism, multiculturalism, marijuana legalization, radical atheism, Hillary Clinton, Bernie Sanders and the whole gamut of cons that the globalists are shilling on the airwaves to a moronic public all too hungry for their next fix of short term solutions while our true souls, while the founding spirit of this nation, completely go up in smoke. But no, instead they went for the easy answers and the fat paycheck. Congratulations Louis CK, you schmaltzy pig-faced slimebag.