SO, ABOUT THAT
WHOLE DRAMA…
You didn’t really think I was going anywhere, did you? I am far too hot, popular, and quick-witted to be disappeared by outraged op-eds appearing in every major news publication in the world. Darlings, it’s Milo we’re talking about. I don’t count media coverage by the inches, I measure it with a wooden yardstick. The only thing that can stop me is a well-placed mirror. Social justice warriors, the conservative establishment, and mainstream media have thrown every label in the book at me: sexist, misogynist, self-hating homophobe, self-hating anti-Semite, Islamophobe, transphobe, racist, fascist, “alt-right,” white supremacist, Nazi, and, finally, “pedophile advocate.” The only thing left is to accuse me of torturing kittens. So, preemptively: I do not torture small animals. I kill them quickly.
It was never my intention to begin my first book by discussing the differences between pedophilia and hebephilia, and how those words relate to my own childhood. And yet, as Father Mike always said, “God won’t put anything in front of you that you can’t take.”
Let me make it abundantly clear: no matter what your news sources have told you, I do not condone, in any way, pedophilia or hebephilia. I believe you know this, otherwise you wouldn’t have bought my book, and for that, I thank you. Sincerely. These have been trying times and I have been tested. There were a few days when I almost gave up on my mission. But thousands of fans reached out, my friends and family had my back, and the people of this world I respect the most kept taking my calls. I couldn’t let you all down.
My enemies thought I had been vanquished, that I would go into hiding in the hills of Dartmoor with my dick between my legs like some weak ass pussy faggot. They couldn’t be more wrong. All they’ve done is piss me off.
As for the infamous podcast, the one which lost me three jobs, effectively putting a dent in the percentage of employed black men vs white, I will openly admit that I was inarticulate and imprecise with my language. My ego is massive but I am not so far gone that I can’t admit when I’ve said something stupid. I make my living by speaking openly, bluntly, and often. I do not plan out or memorize arguments before appearing on a show, because I think that’s boring. I said that a grown man having sex with a thirteen-year-old is not pedophilia. This is a factual statement. Pedophilia is an attraction to children who have not gone through puberty. The men I had sex with when I was thirteen were not pedophiles, at least, not with me. They were hebephiles. It’s a silly semantic to discuss, and not one I would generally harp on, except when I’m speaking on a podcast at 2 AM, when a nuanced semantic point is all you need.
After the podcast was “leaked” to the media, I was disinvited by the octogenarians at CPAC and the utter pussies at Simon & Schuster canceled my book deal. I then resigned from Breitbart during a press conference, during which I stated I myself was a victim of sexual abuse, and therefore mistakenly thought it was okay to discuss these issues any way I wanted to. My critics loved it. Huffington Post even had some unpaid hack gloat about it. I, who have made a living bringing reality to victim culture, calling myself a victim, was too rich for them.
The truth, which they are too simple to understand, is that I never saw myself as a victim. I didn’t do anything I didn’t want to do. I was thirteen and the internet was a new thing. There weren’t other out gay kids in school like there are now, my limp wristed routine was the only show in town. I had few options and a high sex drive. If my abusers had been women, I’d be getting high fives all around, not having to start my first book like this.
Looking back now, I can of course see that what happened to me wasn’t right, even if I was literally asking for it. I was a victim of sexual abuse. However, I want to make this perfectly clear. The whole thing takes up less space in my head than the time David Bowie called me out on a shitty Louis Vuitton knockoff. I responded by throwing up in his sink, but I’ve never bought a knockoff bag again. Having sex with a priest when I was thirteen didn’t stop me from having and enjoying sex for the rest of my life.
The only way I can truly be a victim is to wallow in what happened and let it define me. If you’re reading this, and you have been abused, and you are wallowing, I will give you the most important piece of advice I have: get over it. Move on. Even though it seems like victim status is the best way to earn a living right now (hi Shaun King how’s Twitter been), I assure you, it’s not. You are far too fabulous and smart for all that. It’s easier said than done, I know, but that’s my advice. Get the fuck over it. No matter how bad your experiences, victimhood and self-pity are for the people who won’t buy this book. It is their prison. We must challenge the forces of oppression in society, and we can’t do so from a therapy session.
Sometimes tragedy can produce greatness. It can make you stronger. Madonna got raped in New York and made Erotica, and she never griped about being a victim until the 2010s, when it became in vogue. Tori Amos made a whole career out of being raped, and I should know, I’ve plagiarized freely from her in this book. Getting over it doesn’t mean forgetting it ever happened. It means not being stuck in place by it.
That’s not to say I never did any wallowing. My twenties were spent partying, drinking and fucking my way through Western Europe. During this time, I developed my love for all things anti-establishment. Lenny Bruce, Bret Easton Ellis, Marilyn Manson: these were my heroes. If you told me not to swallow a pill I’d mash it up and snort it. If you told me not to have sex with your boyfriend I’d sleep with your brother and send you a recording.
And then one day, while attending Manchester, I was told I could not read Atlas Shrugged. I thought, this is poppycock, fuck anyone who tells me what I can and cannot read. I finished it three days later. Everything became clear to me then: my need to rebel against the establishment hadn’t changed, but the establishment itself had morphed, right before my eyes. If Capitalists are to be hated then I will champion their causes. If being anti-drug is the new anti-culture, I’ll never smoke or snort anything ever again. And if everyone else is kissing Amy Schumer’s lazy, untalented ass, I’ll write an article called “Feminism is Cancer.”
Only the mainstream media, with the collusion of dishonest anti-Trump conservatives, could have the gall to portray me as a pedophilia apologist. It’s true, I made light of my personal experiences, and used (and will continue to use) flippant language when discussing them, but that’s just one way I deal with the darkness in my youth. The other way is by taking ruthless vengeance on the people who actually harm children.
The media is not interested in fighting pedophilia. If you think CNN’s Jake Tapper was angrily tweeting about me on behalf of his anonymous victim prone friend, and not on behalf of his own inclination for grandstanding, then you haven’t been paying attention. How did Tapper, who calls himself a journalist, spend so much time talking about me and pedophilia, without once mentioning my role in outing Nicholas Nyberg (aka Sarah Nyberg, aka Sarah Butts), a male-to-female tranny, self-confessed pedophile, and white nationalist apologist?1 In the thousands of op-eds written about me, was there a single mention of Luke Bozier, a former business associate of the rabidly anti-Trump Louise Mensch, who was arrested on suspicion of viewing indecent images of children after I reported on him?2 And did any news site that accused me of pandering to pedophiles acknowledge my reporting on Chris Leydon, a London tech journalist who was found guilty of making indecent images of children,3 and is now facing a rape trial?4 They ignored all of this, every single one of them did, which proves that they were never really interested in combating pedophilia, just in bringing me down – and they failed at that too.
Dozens of big-name progressives, including former NFL punter Chris Kluwe, Daily Beast columnist Arthur Chu, and British comedian Graham Linehan ignored or openly supported the self-confessed pedophile Nicholas/Sarah Nyberg after I outted him.5
Right around the same time, Salon published the writings of Todd Nickerson, a so-called “virtuous pedophile,” who alleges he has never harmed children and never will, yet also said, behind the cover of an internet pseudonym, that his goal was to “protect children from harm, not sex.”6 Salon later deleted his articles out of shame, yet VICE, another leftist rag, still carries a glowing profile of Nickerson.7
While leftist journalists attack me as a “pedophile advocate” for rationalizing my own childhood experience of abuse, they’re also trying to normalize attitudes that would lead to more children being abused. For God’s sake, I wrote an article on Breitbart in 2015 called “Here’s Why The Progressive Left Keeps Sticking Up For Pedophiles.”8 These people deserve to be consigned to the gutter of history.
The most surprising publication to defend Nickerson was National Review, home of anti-Trump establishment conservativism, where one of the publication’s top writers called on society to “think twice” before condemning Nickerson.9 This is the very same publication whose writers and editors were at the forefront of efforts to disinvite me from CPAC.
I’m no hypocrite. I tell the truth, always. That’s my whole fucking problem. For the fake news to imply otherwise, when the facts were right in front of their face, is exactly why President Trump has (correctly) labeled them “the enemy of the people.”
But that’s the mainstream media’s entire game. They have no problem telling the public that black is white, up is down, two plus two equals five. Trying to paint a bitter opponent of pedophilia as an advocate for the crime is just another day at the office for them. Malcolm X said, “If you’re not careful, the newspapers will have you hating the people who are being oppressed, and loving the people who are doing the oppressing.” He was right then and he’s right now. Only the prevailing narratives have changed. Every single thing President Trump has said about the press is 100% accurate. I know, I experienced it firsthand.
To the victims of child abuse: we will fight against Salon, VICE, National Review, and anyone else who seeks to normalize pedophiles – “virtuous” or otherwise. To the real victims of rape: we will restore due process, call out the liars, and end the feminist hysteria that makes you less likely to be believed. To the real marginalized voices on college campuses: the Dangerous Faggot is on his way, and, like him, you need to get out of the closet and be fabulous. To the victims of homophobia, patriarchy, street harassment and intolerance: don’t worry, we’ll put a lid on Muslim immigration.
There are real victims out there, and together, you and I are going to fight for them. We’re going to do so without self-pity, without a cult of victimhood, and certainly without safe spaces. As self-centered as I am, this really isn’t about me. It’s about you. They can call me any name they want, as they have, and as they will continue to do. But they won’t stop me from fighting for your right to speak freely, honestly, and rudely, no matter who doesn’t like it.
America isn’t about where you’re from. It’s about how grateful you are to be in the greatest country on earth. I love America, and I love what it stands for. For most of 2016 I traveled across America on my Dangerous Faggot college speaking tour. My college tour was the most talked about of the year. I was also the most disinvited speaker of the year. And maybe of all time.
I wasn’t just speaking on my tour, however, I was listening. I’m like the raptors in Jurassic Park, testing their electrified fences to find weaknesses. I saw some weaknesses, and they were strikingly similar to what I saw in England, right before we opened our borders to the world. But in England, we don’t have that wonderful First Amendment that America does.
I’m here in America with a warning from England. I know I push buttons. I don’t fucking care. If you don’t understand what I’m talking about…well, consider this book your red pill.
Let’s get started.