Greater minds than mine have commented already, though I will note that, for someone so creationist and anti-evolutionist (I suspect he has a personal stake in the latter) Day is surprisingly quick to wheel out Neanderthals as proof of his racist (and scientifically selective) theories. As ever, science is but a Chinese buffet to libertarians.
(Except, as the Waffenwonder says here, not a jot of his bile was racist. Vox Day tip: if you say something racist but don't SAY it's racist the PC brigade can't touch you. Not a bloody leg to stand on, mate. Go on; try it in your daily life!)
Oops, but I digress...
All this hideousness provoked me into ad hoc research (ie: cyber-stalking). I noticed Vox Day has a wife he refers to as--not Brunhilda, surprisingly--but 'Spacebunny'. Spacebunny. Yup.
Wanna see a picture?
Oh, don't look at me like that. Day posted this picture on his own blog in a noble attempt to prove his wife was more of a 'hottie' than some other fantasy writer's (rumor has it if you've the hottest wife of all they hand you a Nebula award).
To recap, Spacebunny is married to this:
Intrigued, I typed Vox Day and Spacebunny into Google images, in the hope of finding a photo of them together so I might produce a set of commemorative plates in the style of HRH Charles and Diana. No such photo emerged. So I tried 'Vox Day wife'. Same again.
Then I noted another odd thing: both times the same old photo of Spacebunny emerged. In fact it appeared to be the only photo of the woman. A professionally-taken modelling photo apparently. Hmm...
She has a life outside Vox Day (as do we all, thank Baal's balls). Check her (locked, 50- followers) Twitter account:
Note her photo.
And a Pinterest account with absolutely no personal or personally-taken photos, exceppppt:
She sometimes emerges from her star-warren to have a go at people too. See this meme someone made about her antics:
It suggests an almost identical argumentative style as Vox Day's. And... what's this? Whoever made it used THAT photo. Like they even had a choice...
(At this juncture, one might also ask how someone so clearly camera-cozy appears on no other photo with a name to it?)
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| Just to be thorough, I then acquired Day's address, caught a Delta Airways flight and negotiated with his front door. Still no evidence. No one was home, not even in the safe behind his signed and framed Charles And Eddie tour poster. |
Faster than one can say 'elaborate sock-puppet', I'll bet you're ahead of me on this.
"But," I hear you cry (actually, I don't hear you; it's just a cliched figure of speech) "why would Vox Day lie about having a classically attractive significant other? Why go to such lengths? And how can you possibly hear me, sat as I am by my computer on a whole other continent?"
Well, I'm not saying that. Not even slightly, not even in the face of the fact Vox Day has a reputation for manufacturing sock puppets and fake reviews.
But... hypothetically... why might he?
As well as his stodgy fantasy novels and by-the-numbers critiques of atheism, Mr Day has leaped on the 'game' cashcow-cum-bandwagon: a burgeoning and lucrative business where some superficially charismatic, rohypnol-rattling 'dude' teaches us lesser men how to 'man up' and 'score perfect-ten chicks'
But--again, hypothetically--what if an 'alpha dude' had no 'perfect-ten chick'? Why, that'd be humiliating! But would he just stare into the mirror and consider oblivion? Heck no! He's the alpha-dude! He'd either go out and 'score' a dazzler or--and, boy, this is an uncharitable thought--construct a false inamorata with her own Twitter account and everything. Oh, and give her a name like 'Spacebunny' because a proper name might be checked.
Anyhoo...
Before Vox Day's minions (real and sockpuppety) pop up in here to burn me alive in a wicker model of their leader's phallus, I should add this post is no less spurious, cherry-picked and unscientific as anything on Vox Day's blog. Bullshit, it's technically called. But if Vox Day can say NK Jemesin isn't fully human, then I can say Vox Day's wife doesn't even fucking exist.
Follow up post here: http://jamesworrad.blogspot.co.uk/2013/06/kicking-against-pricks-thoughts-on-that.html?m
"You know, darling... I never did get what that last paragraph of Worrad's was about."
"Screw him, Ted. We have us. And Jesus. Jesus with a flaming broadsword."
