The left against the bodies

How that, the left would give in the intellectual dishonesty? Would it have become master? No noble soul can believe in such nonsense. The proof is this exemplary report of journalistic rigor whose Daily gratified us at the beginning of May. We took a long time to govern, either revenge is eaten cold or we use this ugly proverb to cleverly disguise our laziness. Anyway, the team of Yann Barthès decided a month ago to install its facetious camera in the premises of a weight room, of the Fitness Park chain for connoisseurs of posterior deltoids.

What was the purpose of this immersion in sweat and grunts? Undoubtedly celebrate this beautiful youth who maintains his body, which makes it possible to reduce health expenditure therefore to replenish the coffers of the social security therefore to extend the CMU to all the inhabitants of the Congolese basin. Fake ! I replied with drool at the lips, foaming under the effect of a rage of very good quality. Because in three minutes of airtime, Daily again seized an opportunity to prove its status as an enemy of the West, which is still possibly tolerable, of the beauty of the world, which is beginning to be less so, and of shapely posteriors, which should on the other hand be worth tortures of the most refined of sadisms. Let’s examine this case.

We believed the left when it told us that it had the intelligence, the reason for it

The words, you know those ugly beasts. They rule the world. Our journalists from TMC who used the term bigorexia to introduce their report know this. The latter should therefore be devoted to bigorexia. What is that ? The morbid addiction to sport. Which produces risks of injury, social isolation, depression. A pathology recognized as such by the WHO since 2011. This does not seem fundamentally amusing. Except that in the report of Dailyreportage is a very big word, it should have been said micro-sidewalk, or micro-carpet, it is simply a question of questioning between two series of pull-ups a handful of sportsmen who spend an average of one hour a day in the gym six days a week, that is to say six hours of sport a week if my calculations are correct, that is to say figures that make the oils of the drafting of The Wrong but not exactly Schwarzy either. It is true that this interrogation is carried out in a spirit of staggering dishonesty and seeks in essence to make the people it targets confess that their practice will make them deschooled and doped. But despite their touching efforts, which one imagines relentless knowing their propensity for rummaging, the microphone holders of Daily only fall on smiling and perfectly balanced young people, otherwise well dressed, with whom the comparison is not kind to them.

We were obviously naive. We believed the left when it told us that it had the intelligence, the reason for it. Daughter of the Enlightenment, let’s never forget that. We were, on the other hand, obscurantism, conspiracy, the absence of probity in matters of the mind. We were wrong as usual. Because the doctors of Daily use the ugly term of bigorexia, which evokes a restaurant in the port of Biarritz where the seafood platters would cheerfully distribute food poisoning, to speak of people who are a priori absolutely healthy. The Barthès clique therefore uses precise concepts on the fly, agitates fears, yes, agitates fears like the average Jean-Marie of the Roaring Twenties aka the years, no detail, except that when he wet your diapers with a sudden submersion mohammedan full of bloody scimitars, a sexual fantasy worth another, they try to make you shiver at the sight of a bench press. You will agree on the comical nature of this approach. Daily demonizes the sport, by producing an abject amalgam, finally nauseating, finally we understand each other and it will soon be a question of the belly of the filthy beast, between its healthy practitioners and those whom it causes to suffer from an addiction.

Read also: Sexual re-education: obsession with the left

But for what purpose? You see, and we know something about it, the journalist is a deceitful little species who spends most of his time shoving his clumsy opinions in the nose of a hand while swearing to you with the other hand on the heart that he is the most neutral being in the galaxy. The journalist is therefore of a race to be unmasked. So let’s unmask Yann and his clique. Yann and his clique are little swarming sentinels of the ideology that we qualify as woke when his culture is limited to the editorials of Pascal Praud and as deconstructivist when we have already come across a book by chance. This is what it is really about in the case that concerns us today: sport aims to forge beautiful bodies, sport, and in particular bodybuilding, poses an ideal body to be achieved by its efforts. That’s not very inclusive. Ah! The sacred word is launched. Yann resents sport because this practice defines a hierarchy between bodies, maintains that some are preferable to others, that muscle is better than fat and strength better than softness. Thereupon, Yann chokes. What ? Bunch of grossophobic bastards! Oh yeah guys. Dangerous is your cult of appearance, which will exclude the fat and the ugly and the skinny, that is to say an altogether non-negligible proportion of the ratings of Daily. That is neither very democratic nor very benevolent. We seem to be joking or not at all. If this left, which posits as a central axiom the acceptance of all behaviors and individual characteristics and their placing on an equal footing, follows its logic to its end, then sport, among many other things, will become a practice heretic, he who discriminates, who professes that there is a beautiful and an ugly, a strong and a weak, in short a good, in short values.

Make no mistake. If we leave the way free, this left will devour all the sweetness of the world, will leave our hearts without food. This report from Daily was a test, a recognition. We test the waters, we measure its strength. Without a move on our part, the assassins will take another step. They will then reign over a emaciated universe, where a lead ethic will have crushed even the most timid shoot of desire. This is the world that the little marquises of Daily, an impossible world where we began by decreeing absolute freedom to end up petrifying the slightest gesture under the threat of the whip of morality. Because to act, because to reach for a goal, is to proclaim a situation better than another, it is therefore to pose a value, to establish a hierarchy. If we wanted to be teasing, we would proclaim the intrinsic fascism of the real, but we will content ourselves with writing that the absolutization of tolerance is not a viable solution to the problem of life. A stone is absolutely tolerant, it will never call you a big sweat bag that would do well to take a solid jog and then a good shower if it wants to stop being a shame for twelve generations of ancestors . A stone is less alive than a dead one.

We want civilization, that is to say, to pose a perfection impossible to reach, that is to say to suffer every second not to be more beautiful, braver and more poetic

We don’t want anything to do with the sad lords of Daily. These beings know nothing of the dawns after the embrace, of the timid reflections crushed against the panes, of the long languid curves between the sheets. They know nothing of these two goddesses to whom noble souls have dedicated their finest years for three millennia, who are called war and love and demand living bodies. We are not fooled by the part of neoliberal individualism that the current practice of sport involves, we know that its name is often pronounced entrepreneurship. But under the rubble still beats the aristocratic impulse which does not want to listen to the tiny world that is imposed on it by hammering that it alone is authorized by morality. We want civilization, that is to say, to posit a perfection impossible to attain, that is to say, to suffer every second not to be more beautiful, braver and more poetic. On this path is the palaestra, which sculpts our bodies and hardens our souls. We therefore cherish it, and do not wonder that the vile rats of Daily hold a dagger to his neck. We will never let their blade pass.

Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Scroll to Top