I wish I could make the transition from incel to chad like them.
Serious Normies try To Ban The Movie The Joker Because Joker looks like a Incel
I wouldn't call him a psychopath. He sounds like a nice guy whose life was very hard, and that made him mad. Sounds a lot like us, in fact...
I think he looks fine. He doesn't look deformed or anything, just aged and tired in some scenes. And he kisses a foid. Warning potential sui fuel
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They may call you toxic or whatever, but only because they fear, they won't do shit to you if you are strong, so the choice is rather obvious.
Don't give spoilers when movie gets released everybody.
On the face of it, all of this controversy is the height of absurdity, isn't it? What strange thing for the happy and healthy to find themselves so desperate to associate this comic-book film with our miserable, misbegotten little tribe. After all, our leading man, Joaquin Phoenix, is a very handsome fellow. This is the type of person who will be rocked to his final sleep as he drowses on his death-bed by memories of holding adoring women in his arms. Hardly the protagonist or villain any proper incel could even begin to identify with, is he?
Now, of course, any proper actor can wear a mask convincingly enough to fool the spectator into believing that the facade plastered to his face is the living, breathing face of the character being portrayed. A skilled thespian worth his next meal and the salt he flavors it with can convince the viewer he is ugly even if he is beautiful in reality, that he is sick despite the fact that, in actuality, beyond the illusory glare of the mendacious spotlight, he is the embodiment of health. Yet, in this instance, our hero or, well, villain, has a consort...at least if we are to place any trust in the trailers for this film. This Joker has his demons, to be sure, but for all of that is still loved, still desired. A cracked diamond perhaps, but still glittering, still lovely and so, ultimately, still valuable. Still worthy of affection. And really, isn't that what makes this character so alluring? That he he is lovable but is incapable of experiencing that affection?
Well, that's what makes such a character compelling for the masses, for the vast majority of humanity who could very well have been loved but, through their own cowardice, are incapable of snatching what is easily within their grasp. This is the trial and travail of the every-man who weeps and gnashes his teeth believing he could never be desired despite the fact he hides the face of someone like Joaquin Phoenix behind the garish make-up of some nightmarish pierrot.
This, of course, is not the experience of the true incel. There is no washing the ugliness from our faces with a flood of repentant tears. We are born with our hideousness nailed far beneath the surface of our skin. It's chiseled into our skulls, carved by Mother Nature who, inexplicably, every so often feels driven to create something horrible rather than lovely. She's mad, so we'll forgive Her such mania even if common decency makes us loathe to. Because, let's be honest with ourselves: even if we sought to indict Her, who would serve as our defense? What public defender will rally to the cause, or be forced to do so, for the sake of the monsters the public despises? No one has for the entirety of our species' history, so I doubt anyone will take up the cause any time soon.
So the "Joker" film is no incel movie, no paeon to the lost, unloved and left behind. Such a song is unimaginable, and there is no throat capable of singing it without bleeding out and rotting away before it could croak out the very first note. No one sings for us, no one mourns for us. There are no dirges composed for abominations.
So why all the controversy? Why are so many pearls being clutched and so many hysterical voices shrieking in lunatic unison or, failing that, a grotesque parody of it?
Perhaps because there is the grudging, and shuddering, recognition that living things that are deprived life in its most meaningful sense become desperate as all living things do when the shadow of Death falls upon them. The happy and healthy would prefer to forget that, to plug their ears and drown that truth out, but it remains with them all the same. This is the price they pay for enjoying the fruits of the Garden while others go hungry down in the Abyss. A very severe price, to be sure, but no Faustian deal is a pleasant one. Devils denied Paradise, growing frantic enough, will storm Heaven. Not to rule, not to seize the throne of the Almighty, but merely to lick the rotting refuse that the elect have cast aside in disgust and maybe, just maybe, live just one day longer.
A failed comedian spewing jokes that no one laughs at, and who starves as a result of such a failure, is little different than the monster who smiles at the maiden and is treated with revulsion and, by virtue of that, goes to the grave leaving nothing behind except for dust. If Nature refuses to wet that parched earth with Her tears, to allow something lovely to spring from the rotting remnants of the abortions She so callously cast away, sometimes blood will have to serve as a bitter, albeit inevitable, substitute.
Perhaps "Joker" is an incel movie after all.
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