Adams’ posts oscillate between standard right-wing grievance and absurdist, almost ritualistic celebration of masculine totems: Hooters, golf, football, steak, pounding “ice-cold domestics,” and chasing Sheilas (roughly, Australian bro-speak for “ladies”). In video diatribes, Adams holds forth on disloyal RINOs and “woke” gyms and fast-food chains, his Australian accent punctuating his varying levels of disgust, outrage, and zeal. But his most singular focus is on defending the natural rights of the traditionally hyper-masculine. (...)
Is Adams an overwrought activist or a deft satirist on an undercover mission? That question is a big part of the enigma. Let me call your attention to Adams’ posts about the joys of golfing with men, which soar past odes to male bonding and directly into gleeful homoeroticism. In one such story posted online, Adams writes of encountering Ricardo, “a fit young man with thick dark hair who looked to be of Latin descent.” Admiring the “tour stiff shafts in all his clubs,” Adams sensed that Ricardo was “searching for something”:
Yesterday morning after church, I went straight for the golf course for a quick solo round before the first games kicked off at 1.
When I arrived, I went straight to the first tee box since I was sufficiently warmed up from my intense workout at the gym earlier in the morning.
“Going for the course record again, Mr. Adams?” said Harvey, the Vietnam veteran who served as the starter at my home course. “Of course I am, Harv,” I said as I fastened my Cabretta leather golf glove, “but I’m all about speed today. I hope whoever you pair with me can play fast because I won’t be waiting around.”
Harvey assured me that wouldn’t be an issue as he introduced me to Ricardo, a fit young man with thick dark hair who looked to be of Latin descent. I teed off first, as an alpha male always does. I took an aggressive, DeChambeau-esque line and striped my first drive over the trees and safely on the fairway a mere 100 yards from the green.
Ricardo took a more conservative line but hit an excellent drive that landed well behind mine but still in the fairway. We played the first few holes very closely, trying to feel each other out. Observing his demeanor gave me the distinct sense that he was searching for something today. I checked out his equipment when he stopped to use the restroom at the halfway house. Tour stiff shafts in all his clubs and a complete set of Titleist T100 irons. Whatever he was looking for, it certainly was NOT his golf game.
I paid careful attention to his swing. The boy had game, but then I noticed his hips weren’t moving with the same fluidity and power I would expect based on his shafts. “Eureka,” I whispered to myself. I had figured it out. He was carrying a burden. This young man needed some masculine guidance, and God dropped him right into my lap.
by Ezra Marcus, Slate | Read more:
Image: Marcus Maddox[ed. Satire or not, somebody's buying his book. See these Twitter/X posts: here and here. Hilarious.]
“Like me, I know that Nick appreciates the power of humor, when it comes to making a point,” Trump writes in the foreword to Alpha Kings, Adams’ new book. “Reminding young men of the importance of faith in God, hard work, sports, ambition, discipline, confidence, manners, and love of country is a very important task and Nick embraces that challenge with gusto, knowledge, and heart.”
~ Forward, by Donald Trump
