Hurricanes of Matriarchy 🌀

A newsletter on the realities of hurricanes and feminism from a lifelong Floridian.

Charlotte and I getting ready to smash the matriarchy hurricane just before Milton arrived last night.

What’s up man,

Born in 88, I’m a lifelong and proud Floridian. I grew up on a boat every weekend in the salt and sun, mostly around the Caloosahatchee River but also the Florida keys and everything in between.

Since I was born I’ve been in Florida for every single hurricane except Hurricane Andrew in 1992. We took a family trip to Mexico for that one. I still remember my dad duct taping down the chairs in our kitchen before we left wondering why he was doing that. My father wasn’t normally scared of hurricanes, but that storm lit a fire under his ass. My hometown of Cape Coral survived, but that storm is stuff of legend in South Florida to this day.

Outside of Andrew I’ve never once evacuated from an incoming hurricane. I have had immediate family suffer major losses from storms though. Entire homes gone - like water over the roof gone. Car floats away, only to be found 6 months later perfectly aligned in a swimming pool miles away. Hurricane Ian was catastrophic to the entire county I grew up in for everyone, friends and family included.

I was in Orlando during Ian and slept through most of it. Absent a tornado I knew my house would be okay, and was at no meaningful risk of flooding. How calm and casual I was about the storm was shocking to my then girlfriend and now wife at the time.

A major reason for this is always being prepared. Another was my experience from Hurricane Charley in 2004.

I was in high school at the time. My parent’s house was in South West Cape Coral. Literally as far SW as you could get, down to the last street at the very corner of the city. This experience was absolutely beyond intense.

Up to that point I had never seen so many people evacuate. This part of the city was always quiet, but just before the storm hit, it was deathly quiet. Every single neighbor had fled. An authentic ghost town, you could hear a mouse fart just before the storm hit.

The eye of the storm nailed my favorite state park Cayo Costa, an island I had camped on many times with friends. This storm was so strong it ripped an island in half I grew up fishing around near Captiva. The eye passed right by my house, calming everything down at one point.

The wind was gusting over 150mph an hour at some points. I was outside with my father throughout some of the storm, protecting our two boats in the dock from damage.

Before and since I have never felt wind that strong in my life. Growing up on the water so much taught me to respect the power of nature - water can easily kill you - but this was a whole new level of crazy.

You can barely walk against wind over 100mph. Gusts of 150+ would instantly knock you on your ass like a rag doll. My dad even at 6’1 250 was knocked down like paper. At one point I saw a sheet of metal fly over his head, missing him by maybe two feet. Had it hit him, it would have been instant death.

The house we were in was built like a brick shit house. My dad had built over 1,000 single family homes in South West Florida by that point. Our own house was finished in mid 2002. That was the only two story home he had ever built, but due to Hurricane Andrew he obsessed over making it hurricane proof.

He supervised every inch of the house’s construction. I was there when he literally laid the slab foundation with the owner of the concrete company, a guy he had sent millions in business to over decades of work. The owner charged him zero. This was consistent for most of the house, he called in every favor to have the house built exactly as he wanted and at the lowest price possible.

While my father was a toxic and drunk fucking animal most of the time, to his credit, this plan worked. Even suffering the strongest parts of Charley, the house sustained near zero damage. Only the fence in the backyard was damaged by the end of the storm.

I mention this because I have never evacuated from an incoming hurricane, and probably never will, but that doesn’t mean I never would. Charley taught me first hand how insanely strong storms can be.

The average person in Florida doesn’t really grasp this. That includes plenty of native Floridians, and especially the boomer snow birds who move here expecting endless sunshine and rainbows.

Like most Americans they live in a hyper-interconnected decadent society where everything is always “just in time” and pumpkin spice lattes flow as endless waterfalls. These people are fat, weak, impulsive, and completely lacking in common sense. They are totally dependent on civilization to survive on a day to day basis, and that goes double for the “bio-boomers” chugging big pharma pills who can’t even do basic grocery shopping without a high tech scooter lugging their fat ass around.

These boomer-tards move into literal “flood zones” - even disclosed by the realtors - and then they are surprised when their house floods during a major hurricane.

Like, uh, you live less than two miles from the beach. What the fuck did you think would happen to a “flood zone” during a major hurricane? Duh.

These people end up drowning to death or sitting on the roof of their house begging for help from the same government that was screaming at them to leave just days beforehand and doing everything imaginable to help them LEAVE.

These people are worse than fucking stupid, they are irresponsible cry babies. Like most women who want to “have their cake and eat it too” in life, they ignore mandatory evacuation orders, but then refuse to accept the risks for what can happen.

When my family stayed during Hurricane Charley, we accepted what could happen, and that absolutely no one was coming to save us if shit went south. It’s life and death stuff. Even as a teenager I knew that my dad had gone far out of his way to make sure the house would survive a direct hit from a major hurricane, including severe flooding.

The average person in Florida just lives in total la la land though. Either completely oblivious and over confident, or freaking the fuck out last minute. There are fresh videos on social media from this week where you can see people shooting at each other at gas stations over fuel and supplies.

A major reason for these panicky idiots in my view, that is rarely if ever discussed, is feminism.

America today has eroded into a soft matriarchy that hides behind a fake, strawman patriarchy. Taylor Swift still has the nerve to scream “fuck the patriarchy” when it was in fact dissolved over 100 years ago.

What this means in practical life is this: intergenerational feminism created a tidal wave of broken families and an epidemic of single moms. This creates a feedback loop of more single moms, more broken families, more chaos, and more destruction.

In terms of men and women, this creates weak, effeminate beta males run by women, who are in turn increasingly hysterical, neurotic, and masculinized.

Socially and culturally speaking, this is itself an ongoing hurricane of dysfunction and destruction. In other words a hurricane of matriarchy, like this shit show here, where fatherless young men burn down their own communities.

When mother nature throws a giant ball of energy at your state - as it inevitably and consistently does for Florida - the result is then pure chaos.

What else would the result be? Women without instruction are always headed for destruction. More obviously to any honest person, women are made for breeding not leading.

But you’re not allowed to say that in our current “co-equal” (covert matriarchal) social order of infinite feminism where you have to “believe all women” because they have vaginas.

This hatred of truth, this self-imposed stupidity, creates chaos.

A robust patriarchy does the opposite. Masculinity and patriarchy bring order to chaos. This is why my family will always be safe during a storm. I am the king, lord, emperor, and god in my kingdom, in these four walls of patriarchy.

Year round I am prepared for a major disaster. Strong hurricanes? Sure. They can kill you.

In reality I’m over prepared for hurricanes because storms are just one life threatening disaster of many. You can have major civil unrest, WW3 can break out, “the bombs” could drop, an EMP could knock out power for months.

Nobody actually knows what the future will bring. A proper patriarch though hopes for the best and prepares for the worst.

Even with a “hurricane” I’m less concerned with the storm in most cases, and more worried about people. People are stupid fucking animals under a matriarchy. What few crumbs of order and patriarchy we have left, can get instantly wiped out by a storm.

Water can go out. Electricity can and usually does go out. Maybe for a day, maybe for a week, maybe for a month. You have no idea until it happens.

When Charley hit we lost power for only 24 hours, a big surprise at the time. My grandma meanwhile lost power for over 2 weeks just a few miles inland. There were curfews and law enforcement everywhere at night, but still looting happened.

People tend to go extra nuts once they go hungry for 72 hours. This is why my “hurricane prep” includes more than months of food, 300 bottles of water, hundreds of batteries, and backup water purification prep.

It includes multiple first aid kits, household medicine, a dozen fully charged two way radios, and above all guns.

Lots of guns, more than a thousand rounds for each gun, plenty of magazines, years of handling and training with each gun, and a nice body armor if shit gets nasty.

As an apex alpha male patriarch, you have to be ready to protect your family no matter the threat. That threat can be the storm itself, it can be a total lack of utilities for weeks or months, or just the simple necessities of food and water.

It can also be half a dozen looters going door to door in your neighborhood at 3am armed with baseball bats and handguns. When you haven’t seen a cop car in weeks and cell phone towers are still out.

You have to be ready to neutralize that threat and anything like it that brings risk of harm to your family.