The Awful and Misogynistic Armchair Admirals

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Just in case some readers assumed that it was an exaggeration to title my last post, “And Women Rule Over Us“, the female New Zealand Minister of Defense held a press conference with a decidedly uncomfortable looking Admiral of the Navy, where she lambasted the public for daring to have an opinion, let alone criticise, the actions of the navy over which she has ultimate responsibility.

Judith Collins declared that anyone with no naval experience voicing an opinion on the matter of 12.5% of New Zealand’s sinking without a trace is hereby referred to as an ‘armchair admiral’, a title which she smugly announced that the very smart staffers in her office had come up with. The problem with this short sighted slight is that Collins herself has absolutely no experience whatsoever with matters of naval import, let alone defense in general. And yet there she squats as she lectures the world in her school marm manner while she despairs to the heavens at all of the misogyny that somehow still persists, despite all the best efforts of those of her ilk.

“Seriously, it’s 2024. What the hell’s going on here?” she then declared.

What is going on is that the woke chickens are coming home to roost. In terms of the disease formally known as liberalism but now referred to as woke, New Zealand is at the tipping point of that awful self-inflicted curse. It was the first country in the world to give women the vote and it has quite obviously been downhill since. That it still exists as some form of coherent nation is in spite of all the best efforts of people like Judith Collins.

In a normal functioning patriarchal world, the Defense Minister in such an event would reassure his citizens that such a loss was unacceptable and that all efforts were being made to ensure appropriate heads would roll. That is because in such a world, a government is answerable to its people, as is its military which is simply an extension of the government. They are public servants and their salaries and equipment is paid for by the taxpayers of that nation. New Zealand citizens were instead treated to a haranguing lecture about their awful misogyny and told to “be better”, a charge that perhaps on the evidence should be directed towards those deemed with selecting the commanders of the nation’s few remaining warships.

Just how far gone New Zealand is in the world of woke was highlighted by comments by the rear admiral in charge of the navy.

Chief of Navy Rear Admiral Garin Golding says there has been a process to lift the tapu of the ship – so healing could begin.

Nobody sane has any idea what this ugga-bugga pagan nonsense is supposed to mean, but the fact that he can utter this drivel with a straight face shows just how wretched New Zealand is. One wonders why the same ugga-bugga spirits weren’t around to stop the ship from running into a reef in the first place.

Now the government finds itself in a tight spot as it has announced a court of inquiry as it is bound by law to do so. But if the inquiry were to do its job properly then there would be a fair likelihood that the ship’s commander would be found at fault. However, in this case to do so would be to leave them open to more attacks by the dreaded misogynists.

Thankfully the citizens of New Zealand can rest easy as Commodore Melissa Ross will be the president of the inquiry.

The regime makes a very big deal indeed when it promotes women to high places in male roles. But when those same women cock things up it spends all of its energy throwing mud at anyone who dares to point out that the emperor has no clothes. Judith Collins unilaterally declared without any evidence that the one sure fact is that the sex of the ship’s commander did not cause the incident, which heavily points towards that fact as a deciding factor.

Men are good at being men, and women are good at being women. But men are awful at being women, and women are terrible at being men. And yet here we are. A woman commanding a navy vessel is just as much a fraud as a man wearing lipstick and a wig lining up to race against a bunch of women in an athletics contest. Such circumstances can only exist in what is referred to as Clown World.

Originally published at Pushing Rubber Downhill. You can purchase Adam’s books here.