In Which John Rambo Traps Blue-Haired Liberal Critics in His Tunnels and Hunts Them Down!
By Kyle B. Stiff
I’m a big fan of Rambo, but I didn’t want to see Rambo: Last Blood. Being a product of Hollywood, I assumed it would be about John Rambo going on one last mission to help Mexican prisoners escape from Trump’s concentration camps while executing police officers and ICE agents in the name of diversity. I assumed the script would be written by James Gunn (the director of Guardians of the Galaxy) or one of his clones, and would include a lot of “witty banter” between “delightfully dysfunctional” social outcasts. I hate that stuff and I wanted to remember Rambo as he used to be, before Hollywood became the propoganda arm of a cult ten thousand times worse than Scientology. However… as soon as I heard that people were getting triggered over this movie, I had to see it for myself!
And, guess what – it’s beautiful!
Rambo: Last Blood isn’t exactly a great movie, but it’s the very thing that we needed. It has a simple story, but the timing of its release, and its focus on narratives that liberals hate, is like a lighthouse beacon for the human spirit tossed in a storm of retardation that is destroying civilization (guess I’m taking the kid gloves off with the hyperbole here). I won’t spoil anything, but the basic gist of the movie is that John Rambo is living a quiet life dealing with the demons of his past (meaning: he got to commit a lot of based war crimes back in the day), he has a niece that he dearly loves, and she gets involved with Mexican gangsters – that is, human traffickers. If you’re liberal: Yikes. Fucking YIKES. “Uh, Yikes Department? I need to file a fucking claim, please! In fact my name is Karen and I need to speak to the manager about this shit!!!”
Every liberal film critic hated this movie, but lots of normal people (that is, unindoctrinated people) liked or even loved it. Maybe this is obvious, but sometimes it’s good to state the obvious: The entire narrative of this movie simply cannot exist within the liberal narrative of how the world works. In the liberal world, there are no Mexican drug cartels or human traffickers. There are only disenfranchised people who were not properly served by society, and therefore they must I repeat MUST be allowed to come into America. Unfortunately they can’t, because our President (who is Literally Hortler) is enforcing regressive, archaic, outdated border security laws, and is even putting Mexicans into concentration camps, including Area 51. There may even be ovens and execution squads at these concentration camps, who knows?
Since Hollywood is one hundred percent on board with this narrative, Rambo: Last Blood hits hard because it somehow came out of the very machine that’s been retooled to ONLY churn out stories that fit within a lefty narrative. Having rejected any sort of traditional religion, and yet still being human and thus requiring some kind of religion (or at the very least, a moral framework), Hollywood has chosen DIVERSITY. “Have you heard of diversity? It’s our strength!” Within that framework, a movie that shows Mexican gangsters keeping young sex slaves drugged and confined is downright blasphemous! It doesn’t matter that this movie also has good and heroic Mexican characters; no, within the extreme leftist narrative, you are not allowed to acknowledge that a Mexican is capable of immoral behavior. It would be like saying that diversity isn’t our strength – which it is, if you haven’t heard.
Last Ride of the Boomers
It’s been said by those wiser than me that the zoomers will be our salvation, but Last Blood is kind of interesting in that it shows a boomer getting his shit together and squeezing out enough testosterone to mow down some bad guys just to help a defenseless girl, even rocking his boomer jams while he does it. In a world where right-wing guys are beyond sick of putting up with female troubles (some are even going MGTOW) and left-wing types praise women only when they act like men, it’s nice to see an old guy butcher some bad guys in the name of chivalry. One of the bad guys even says, “Only an old fuck would come back for some cut-up bitch.” It’s sweet and strikes a deep chord, especially among guys who have a protective instinct that they aren’t allowed to use. We can’t even compliment women or hold the door open for them, much less form militias and blast suspicious border-crossers to protect women who, let’s face it, never really understand how unbelievably dark the world can be.
In some sense, the warrior mentality idolizes females even though (real talk) they don’t deserve idolization, but it’s kind of a “necessary lie” that holds civilization together. But civilization is falling apart. Rambo’s niece Gabriela was on her way to college where she was probably going to major in Socialist Gender Theory with a minor in Antifa Combat Tactics or “How to Hate Everything (Including Yourself)”. This beautiful young lady who loved her family and her Uncle Rambo would most likely come back home for the summer overweight, her hair either blue or shaved off, with a nose ring and a bunch of tattoos, leading some indoctrinated soyboy on a leash, and berating her Uncle Rambo for his toxic masculinity. I’m trying to be spoiler-free here, so I’ll just say that whether Gabriela was going to *have a very bad time* with Mexican drug cartel animals or have her soul mutilated by left-wing cultists, she was fated to be sacrificed either way.
There’s a lot about Last Blood that isn’t great, but its timely nature definitely takes it out of the “okay” category and makes it far greater than its otherwise plebeian nature might have warranted a few decades ago. The shots of Trump’s wall and Rambo’s improvised Mayan revenge ritual alone make it worth our time. In an era where every movie exists only for indoctrination purposes, I don’t know how this one slipped through.
This imperfect movie taps into our very real need to protect what we’ve worked so hard to build, because we’re powerless right now. Every day we see these cultists tearing down one institution after another. Despite what you might think, people aren’t dumb. They know society is falling apart, and they know it isn’t because traditional values, which have guided civilizations for thousands of years, are suddenly the cause of our downfall. Most people can’t articulate it, but they instinctively know that people with blue hair having emotional meltdowns because an election didn’t go their way is not normal. They know that there are certain things that seem to make crime rates skyrocket, and they don’t want their neighborhoods to become scary places where kids can’t run around and have fun, and they know the blue hairs and the professors and the obnoxious celebrities aren’t going to help. And these very loud weirdos aren’t trying to debate the merits of their ideas, either; they rely on shutting down dissent through censorship, and using emotional histrionics to control weak people and bludgeon strong people into submission. The meme “Are we the baddies?” definitely applies.
I have to admit I got a kick out of Rambo’s creator being very vocal about how much he hated this movie. It’s one of those JK Rowling moments where the creator is desperately virtue signaling in order to remain relevant. JK Rowling is the most prominent representative of this pattern, which is especially amusing when you consider the “problematic” nature of her Gringotts goblins and the stereotype they represent. Whatever the case, I’m sure it’s tough when everyone you know is a lefty, and your entire reputation depends on how hard you virtue signal in public. I can’t imagine how miserable it must be!
Anyway, when the credits rolled, I hit the exit and unexpectedly met a three-man shooter team preparing to blast everyone in the theater. I’ve played a lot of Metal Gear Solid games so I was able to use my knowledge of stealth to hide and listen in on the black ops team.
I distinctly heard their commander say, “Remember – no Hebrew.”
I feared the worst, but the attack was suddenly called off, and I followed the killers behind the theater. They had a mobile command center set up around some innocuously labeled vans, and I saw a drugged-up white kid sitting on the curb, his eyes glazed over from a pharmaceutical cocktail that enhanced his MK ULTRA training and his willingness to be a patsy in yet another “active shooter” incident.
I watched as the shooter team fell to one knee, bowing to a holographic image of George Soros in a black robe.
“Master,” said one of the killers, “why must we stand down? If we want to disarm the American people, or at least convince them to disarm themselves, then you know we must have more shooter incidents!”
“Of course, my young padawan,” said Emperor Soros. “But our surveillance of the theater revealed that only ancient boomers are willing to go to a matinee showing of Rambo. Nobody cares about a bunch of white-haired old men!” Before the shooter team could break down into tears after losing the opportunity to shoot a bunch of people and blame it on a drugged up white kid, Emperor Soros smiled and licked his lips.
“Postpone the mission until JOKER!” he said, cackling like a cartoon-villain.
I broke out into a cold sweat, dear reader, and I got the hell out of there. I’m looking forward to Joker, but I’m not looking forward to being shot, so hopefully we’ll have a few more false flag attacks and… er, that is, I mean I hope we have a few more actual shootings before Joker so we can all be disarmed before it hits theaters. That way we won’t end up in the inevitable situation that *everyone* is predicting!
I’ve always wanted to live my life as a disarmed slave anyway, and if Hollywood can help out with that, then I’m all for it!