For the last few days I’ve had this weird tugging feeling in my chest. Those closest to me have suggested it could be my heart, an organ I had not previously realised I possessed. At least, that’s what they keep telling me on Twitter.
Perhaps it is time for me to be a force for good, along with being handsome, witty, debonair, intelligent, amazingly coiffured, an outstanding journalist and a really humble person. There is badness in the world, and only I can solve it in my inimitably selfless and compassionate manner.
Reflecting on my recent success in helping Cassie Jaye’s The Red Pill documentary to not only reach its goal but to more than double it, I’ve realized that crowdfunding is the way I can best impact the world. So: I’m making it my business to positively impact the harrowing Syrian refugee crisis.
Even as I type this, Democrats in America are gnashing their teeth in despair as states continue to announce they will not accept refugees. I know this will sound like a sensible approach to most Breitbart readers. After all, we know most the Syrian refugees are men of fighting age, we know refugees were involved in the Paris attacks, and we know plenty of these guys aren’t even Syrian.
I have also previously expressed my reservations about letting in such an alien culture and what it might do for women and gays, while acknowledging that many of them are quite foxy, sexually ambiguous in that uniquely Middle-Eastern way and could probably be calmed down with a healthy dollop of Milo. What is it they say in Damascus? Every hole’s a goal?
I can’t read these lavish multi-page spreads about sexy brown-skinned men in the New York Times any longer without stirring. My ingenious plan, therefore, is to house male refugees between the ages of 18 and 35 in crowdfunded facilities in the heart of liberal enclaves.
Bleeding-heart liberals in the media keep telling us we should open our hearts to these poor souls. So let’s do it. These facilities will collectively be called Milo’s Home for Wayward Jihadis. We will include all the creature comforts of home, such as a halal kitchen, a basement shooting range and living quarters equipped with a variety of whips, bats and ropes with which our young bucks can subdue local white girls.
The great thing is we won’t need to struggle to find the appropriate locations to house our Yiannopoulos urban warfare achievers: just listen for where liberals are crying loudest for them to be let into America. I say charity starts at home–their homes, specifically.
Surely Rachel Maddow, Sally Kohn and other Mother Gaia figures from the American political Left will jump at the chance to inject some vibrant multiculturalism into their local communities? Just don’t let the kids out after dark unsupervised, obviously. Those western school uniforms can be unacceptably suggestive.
We might need several Milo’s Homes in Manhattan, of course, so our naughty boys can visit the UN whenever necessary, and maybe Brooklyn, where the hipsters live. They will have to find a place in New York’s overburdened school system, which may be easier since young Muslim men show an explosively enthusiastic aptitude for basic chemistry.
California has several likely spots, including Bel Air and Beverly Hills, from which celebrities love to call for an influx of refugees but never seem to have space in their own mansions. Meanwhile, San Francisco can surely take a few hundred thousand new residents, though they may need to rename Haight-Ashbury to Hate-Ashbury.
I’d love to try to get a Milo’s Home for Wayward Jihadis outside the Kennedy Compound in Massachusetts. I have a feeling they’d fight against it, like they fought against their beloved green energy in the form of a wind farm off the coast a number of years ago. But Massachusetts has already said “No thanks!” to refugees. Our current thinking is to situate them in Delaware and hope that the adhan reaches the Kennedys anyway.
I’d suggest placing a Milo’s Home in Hillary Clinton’s town, but she seems to move “home” every time she runs for office and we can’t afford to move facilities that often.
Obviously, security precautions will have to be taken to insulate the rest of America from the machinations of the odd bad guy we bring over. But to compensate for the “enforced gated community”-style living they will be expected to endure, I will personally submit myself to the terrible ordeal of keeping these new citizens entertained, because I am one of life’s givers. Well, takers. Whatever.
I know this audacious plan will be difficult to pull off, but I consider it my way to give back to the country that has given me so much. Besides, I’ve pulled off worse.