Anchorage, AK—
Richard Spencer has devoted much of the last two years crowdsourcing a venture to stockpile reserve supplies of pure, racially white semen in a subterranean Alaskan vault, but has faced yet another setback in his dream of being the premier collector of white people’s semen in North America, but more likely the entire world.
Thanks to unusually active tectonic plates along the northern Pacific coast, an earthquake shook the vault’s foundations and collapsed the vault’s scaffolding storage system, shattering thousands of mason jars of certified-white sperm exhaustively collected and stored to ensure against what Spencer fears the most: some future dystopian doomsday threat to genetically pale skin.
“It was, literally, the biggest sucker-punch from life I’ve ever received,” explained Spencer in an online video message to his patrons and investors. “We had just hit the milestone of capping and freezing our 10,000th mason jar of all-white American sperm, and it was the accomplishment of my entire career. Sure, on the outside it seems like me and my alt-right collaborators and donors were just a bunch of lonely, unloved racist betas getting together and circle-jerking in little competitions to see who could climax the fastest, but we were all proud to serve the future Aryan kingdom we imagined called Caucasia. We were like Romulus and Remus of a future Rome, only instead of being mythologically raised by a wolf we were raised in our own little mythological world of mutual masturbation. Those other wankers were my brothers, more so than my real brother, who is a total libtard. Together our motley crew of pissed off, undersexed, underemployed white men pulled off this amazing achievement to preserve our god-like DNA coded for skin so majestically white that it’s susceptible to chronic sunburning, and someday the future will thank us. When the white race is down to our last thousand fertile white women capable of continuing the white race’s bloodline, everyone will be building statues of us for our dutiful work because it will allow these white crusaders to evacuate the women to our Alaskan vault in some kind of a Helm’s Deep situation, and we’ll conscript the women into pregnancy slavery to pop out as many white babies as possible. We’ll be able to preserve white skin and patriarchal oppression, and knock out two alt-right birds with one stone. You know, the SS did a similar thing in the Third Reich with Lebensborn with their white women. The Nazis are totally our inspiration behind the whole doomsday sperm vault. They had such a beautifully idealistic concept of racial domination that guides our Alt-Right White Sperm Doomsday Vault project. It just sucks that people call us racist so much, because our vision is way different than racism. We don’t hate black people, and Jews, and Asians, and the LGBTQ+ community, we don’t hate them at all. We just don’t want them to exist at all. Totally different. It really hurts my feelings when people throw around the “R-word” so casually. Also, in this doomsday scenario in which we alt-righters can become kings like Aragorn, women would, presumably, finally have sex with us without us having to hide like spiders in darkened corners of clubs and bars waiting for women to get intoxicated and take advantage of them. Women better start getting sluttier, let me tell you, because I am so close to turning incel!”
During a follow-up Ask Me Anything event for Reddit, Mr. Spencer elaborated on the earthquake’s damage:
“It was so gross. So. Gross. Our whole scaffolding system collapsed simultaneously as our refrigeration process suffered a blackout so that our thousands of mason jars filled to the rim with sperm shattered and thawed into globby puddles. Me and several volunteers tried to save as many mason jars as we could, but the damage was catastrophic. And the floors got super slippery so we kept slipping and sliding around in the slop and dropping the few unbroken jars so that even those broke on the floor. All the glass shards littering everywhere cut our clothes and tore into our skin when we’d slip and slide around on the floor. In some rooms we were practically swimming in the mess. Aryan sperm was literally covering every surface, and sneaking into every crevice. EVERY crevice, if you catch my drift. If it hadn’t been so heart-breaking and painful and disappointing to see the last two years of our exhaustive jerking off spilled everywhere, it would have been a spectacularly beautiful sight. Oh, to have been a sperm that day, free at last and mingling with billions of other white sperm cells in an eden paradise of white DNA. I cried at least twice, but more likely half a dozen times. It might have just been from the sperm that got in my eyes. Although, I’ll tell you what, after that long, long, disgusting night of cleaning, my skin was so smooth when I showered the crusty coating all off. Maybe I should start commercializing some of our next batches as an Aryan skin cream for white supremacists rather than just stockpiling it all. Hmm, I’ll think about it. Well, gotta get back to work. My sperm isn’t going to jerk itself back to 10,000 jars, you know what I mean?”
(Picture courtesy of Robert Thivierge.)
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