October 30, 2023
The two most terrifying days on the calendar are finally here: Halloween on 31 October, and World Vegan Day on 1 November. Paradoxically, extreme non-meat-eating, taken to its logical limit, may counterintuitively conclude in acts of extreme meat-eating…namely, the eating of other humans. After all, if men and women completely cannibalize one another into extinction, they will by definition be unable to continue immorally chowing down on any other fleshly species like cows or chickens, won’t they?
This is the genuine creed promoted by the vegan witch Patricia MacCormack, an Australian tutor of Continental Philosophy (re: Left Bank deconstructionist drivel) at England’s Anglia Ruskin University, an institution she wishes to transform into “the Evil Cambridge”—although I think she really hopes to re-create Miskatonic University, the fictional institution of twisted tertiary education from the Weird Tales of celebrated U.S. pulp-horror writer H.P. Lovecraft (HPL to his mates).
The Black Arts
Online PR photos make Goth Girl MacCormack resemble Vampire crossed with Dame Edna Everage. Outside of academia, Tim Burton’s solidified wet dream has a sideline in occult-based DJ-ing and performance arts, gracing one 2017 London nightlife event at which a “vicious queer spell” caused “punk witches,” “camp vampires,” and “queer zombies” to rise from their graves and invade clubland in the name of dismantling capitalism. As said event was funded by Arts Council England, it appears all the Devil’s Forces of Hell are now directly taxpayer-subsidized in Great Britain, no longer just the social workers.
An incomplete list of MacCormack’s many vital literary contributions to contemporary academic non-knowledge just has to be seen to be believed: I shall limit myself here to mentioning The Ecstatic Olfactory Face (2014), Becoming-Vulva (2010), Rebuilding the Fabulated Bodies of the Hoard-Warriors (2016), Perversion: Transgressive Sexuality and Becoming-Monster (2004), Queer Posthumanizm (2015), and Tortured Spectators: Massacred and Mucosal (2017).
In order to be paid (by you) to write more, she “continues to apply for large grants.” Yes, and I bet she fucking gets them, too.
One Up the Bum, No Harm Done
A proud and open traitor to her own species (she’s a human, apparently), MacCormack is most notorious for her tract The Ahuman Manifesto: Activism for the End of the Anthropocene, the “Anthropocene” being the geological epoch we are now living through, in which mankind has begun directly altering the planet’s very nature via pollution. Published in 2020 by the alleged major academic imprint Routledge, the book’s main argument is that, in order to bring the Gaia-raping Anthropocene to a quick end, mankind should voluntarily kill itself off completely, ASAP.
This can be facilitated by four new stations of the cross of an invented anti-human anti-religion named the Church of Euthanasia, namely: sodomy (you can’t get pregnant up the bum), abortion, suicide, and, of course, cannibalism. A vegan who ironically aspires to swallow man-meat, MacCormack has penned learned essays on necrophilia, “thanaterotics,” and “necrosexuality,” making the Modest Proposal that humanity subsists off its own dead as entirely as possible, using them as sources of food and fuel rather than animal livestock or nasty, polluting fossil fuels. Clearly, the true tragedy of Auschwitz’s industrial ovens was actually their carbon emissions.
Sabrina the Perpetually Teenage Witch
MacCormack’s eldritch neo-Necronomicon was reviewed on this very website back in 2021 by regular Takimag scribe Theodore Dalrymple, who openly admitted he didn’t understand a word of it. I envy him. Desiring a fright for Halloween, I too have now absorbed this very same grimoire and, sadly, found that I actually did understand it—namely, I understood it to be deliberately written using a mode of fashionable obscurantist discourse explicitly designed to make no sense.
“I don’t understand the point of even understanding something,” MacCormack once confessed; so, if like Dr. Dalrymple you don’t get what she’s saying, that actually stands as a sort of educational success, at least to Weird Sisters like her.
“In order to dismantle the human, I have sought to no longer argue like a human, with other humans,” she writes on her book’s very first page. To which one can only say in response: “Cthulhu fhtagn R’lyeh!”
Instead of talking to the humans, Doctorate Doolittle prefers to talk to both the animals and the demons—or to talk utter bollocks upon their behalf, anyway. “I simply can’t see why she is so sure that creatures of the underworld and hidden realms also read The Guardian,” one critical assessment of her curious far-left oeuvre says, and I would tend to agree.
Beyond the Minge
As an “anti-racist, pro-queer, anti-ableist feminist,” Goodwife (or most likely Badwife) MacCormack sometimes performs in conjunction with an arts organization named cuntemporary.org. This particular cuntemporary artist specializes in performing acts of so-called cunt chaos magick, or Cunnus Chaosium, apparently intended to somehow conjure the fictional space-demons of H.P. Lovecraft into our real-life earthly realm through the gateway of her own figurative vagina, thereby to destroy mankind wholesale in the name of Greta Thunberg and All Her Works.
If you’re unfamiliar with HPL, he was an extremely conservative hack who wrote dozens of entertainingly anti-humanistic horror yarns about demons from outer space or other dimensions who invaded Earth to eat or interbreed with the natives, thereby transforming them into hideous subhuman scum—a metaphor for white American WASPs foolishly mating with non-Anglo-Saxon immigrants and thereby spawning degenerate walking mixed-race abortions like Naomi Osaka.
HPL’s chief literary space-demon was Cthulhu, a colossal squid-headed horror with tentacles all over his face. Being a politically queer feminist witch who wishes to transform humans into “queerdos,” MacCormack has theorized Cthulhu’s face was actually a huge alien vagina. Admittedly, in HPL’s books Cthulhu is assigned the Earth pronoun “he,” but this is “a very cunty he,” she says.
Riffing off the postmodern philosophies of Belgian-born feminist pseudo-academic Luce Irigaray, MacCormack feels logic itself is but a hidden power tool of white maleness, white males being allegorical dickheads, not massive tentacular minge-mouths. For Irigaray, penises were rigid, logical, and comprehensible, whereas vaginas were fluid, messy, and chaotic, full of fiddly folds and uncertain borders. Hence, cunt-face Cthulhu stood for illogical queerness against the normative traditional cisheteropatriarchal hierarchy: Cthulhu is blackness, femaleness, gayness, etc., etc.
How to summon Cthulhu into our world for real? Through MacCormack’s own cunt (this is her habitual preferred term, not mine), which is inherently demonic. Like Yog-Sothoth in HPL, a hideous arch-demon who embodies and opens the magical portal through which his even worse stygian allies can later pass, her own cunt is a gate or Hell-Mouth through which the chief space-demon Cthulhu can imaginatively manifest xeself.
Unshaven cunts, like some demons and animals, “are hairy and exceed the capacity to be smoothed,” making them ideal birthing passages for Lovecraftian horrors like the biblical monster Leviathan, whom MacCormack claims was nothing but a massive cunt, “that which gathers itself together in folds,” as opposed to a giant whale, as mainstream scholars usually argue.
The human cunt “is a demon” that “must be evoked,” it “will not come [i.e., cum] unless it is desired” by its sorcerer, MacCormack continues, before explaining to her fellow students of the Dark Arts that, via the performance of “queerly bendy practices,” or strange self-invented occult rituals, “we can think and act like cunts” too. She appears to do little else.
The Dumb Witch Horror
Disappointingly, the real Rosemary’s Baby that Posthuman Pat wishes to birth through her cunt is not a literal demon but an imaginative one, that of anti-logical, far-left, French-bred deconstructionism: For “Cthulhu” and “Leviathan,” you should really read “Derrida” or “Foucault.”
Like those two notorious pseuds, MacCormack’s deliberately loony arguments are meant to deconstruct everything about our civilization we take for granted. The uncertain, folded-over borders of the cunt can be used as a practical argument to dismantle national borders, she claims: Dismantling borders is to subvert HPL’s white ethnonationalism, transform walls into gates, and dissolve the West within a giant satanic melting pot like an evil alchemist (i.e., George Soros—another horrible massive cunt).
The ultimate point is to successfully “queer the species” by turning all known traditional commonsense values completely topsy-turvy (demon est deus inversus—the Devil is God upside down), with gays being elevated above straights, black criminals over white victims, and so forth. This sounds like MacCormack must be an identity-politics nutcase, but actually she hates identity politics.
She first wishes to destroy white cisheteronormativity only as a prelude to destroying cisspeciesnormativity: If white straight males can be made to see they and their worldview are nothing special, then all the disabled black benders who come to rule after them must be made to see they are not much to write home about either. Why does even St. George Floyd’s life matter more than that of an axolotl or an amoeba, or even something wholly inanimate like a rock, a tricycle, or a dog turd?
Once we are made to see that our entire human Weltanschauung is just a hateful inherited illusion, we can dismantle humanity wholesale, not just the white, straight, male, able-bodied portion of it, and embrace our extinction in a gentle and nonviolent fashion. By bumming one another into the grave, siring no more children, and eating and burning the corpses of our steadily accumulating natural dead whilst leaving all those innocent cows and lumps of coal alone, we pass away peacefully. Then, one day, the final human will die, and that will be it: The universe belongs once more to Cthulhu.
No more humans, says MacCormack, no more racism, sexism, homophobia, or capitalism. No more Brexit, either, which she honestly considers the true unfolding Apocalypse here, not her own.
There have always been deluded, eccentric individuals in existence, and I actually find MacCormack’s crank screed darkly entertaining. The difference is, in past ages, she would surely have had to self-publish it at her own expense. No longer. What I find most disturbing about her Ahuman Manifesto is not its actual content, but the numerous laudatory testimonies on the back cover, provided by other academics who consider its message of species-wide genocide, people-eating, and corpse-loving to be not only sensible, practical, and ethically admirable, but even “joyful” and “beautiful.”
This “joyfully” nihilistic creed is now being promoted to our youth. It won’t end well, not in this era of ever-increasing deranged student radicalization. Will those indoctrinated young Green Guard fanatics who come after their idealistically pacifistic tutor try to violently force the issue of human extinction one day if they ever get the chance, perhaps with guns, bombs, genetically engineered viruses, or nuclear weapons?
Forget H.P. Lovecraft, the real Halloween horrors these days are haunting the library stacks of our Miskatonic Universities, not the shelves of our bookstores.
(All unreferenced quotes are taken from MacCormack’s book itself.)