Fuctose Intolerance: A Survival Guide for Those Who Can’t Stomach Leftwing Bullshit
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Written by: Op-Ed Shaydee Lane
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Fuctose Intolerance (FI) is an insidious condition afflicting thousands of otherwise rational individuals. Brought on by prolonged exposure to leftwing rhetoric, FI manifests as an acute inability to digest bullshit sugar-coated narratives, half-baked utopian policies, and artificially sweetened promises of equality.
The condition is often exacerbated by excessive consumption of mainstream media, academic theorists, and government-funded arts festivals.
Sufferers of FI may experience the following symptoms when exposed to progressive discourse ( also known as Bullshit. )
Sudden eye-rolling, often involuntary, in response to buzzwords such as "lived experience," "safe space," and "redistributive justice."
A gag reflex when confronted with opinions suggesting that economics is a zero-sum game.
Uncontrollable skepticism when hearing phrases like "fully funded by the government" without mention of taxpayers.
Bouts of existential dread upon reading yet another call to "decolonise" mathematics.
If you experience any of the above for more than ten minutes while watching a panel discussion on the ABC, it is highly likely you suffer from FI. Do not panic. There are ways to manage your condition.
Managing Long Fuctose Intolerance is possible.
By reducing exposure to sugar-coated bullshit and replacing it with a balanced diet of history, economics, and common sense is a great start. Avoid processed ideologies high in emotional appeal and low in factual sustenance. A steady intake of Churchill, Menzies, and Orwell can help fortify intellectual resilience. Throw in a mix of Elon Musk, Donald Trump and a dash of Rowan Dean and you will be back on track to health.
Consider joining patriotrealm.com which has daily cleansing programmes in its forum. Limit your intake of high-fuctose content such as The Guardian opinion pages or taxpayer-funded think pieces on "the intersectionality of post-industrial queerness and climate reparations." Instead, seek out unrefined sources of information, such as primary documents, independent journalism, and economic reality. Javier Milei is also a good source of a quick fix should you get an unexpected bullshit attack.
Strengthen your ability to endure nonsense by engaging in Socratic dialogue with those who still believe Venezuela is an economic miracle. Ten minutes of calmly questioning the feasibility of universal basic income can significantly increase your tolerance levels. Seek out fellow FI sufferers who can help validate your symptoms and provide a safe space (not the progressive kind) where reality-based discussions can take place. Even talking about positive bullshit can cancel out negative bullshit.
Engaging in pub debates, having a yarn over a meat pie, or simply laughing at the latest bullshit in cultural discourse can provide much-needed relief. If you find yourself in an unavoidable high-fuctose environment - such as a university lecture on "Why Meritocracy is a Tool of Oppression" - take the following steps:
Deep Breaths – Inhale deeply, remind yourself that this too shall pass.
Mental Shielding – Repeat the mantra: "Just because it sounds good doesn’t mean it works."
Exit Strategy – If symptoms escalate, politely excuse yourself and seek refuge in a common-sense sanctuary such as a local hardware store, a small business, or anywhere people are actually working for a living.
Case Study: The Outback Bush Dweller’s Survival Guide
Bill "Bluey" Thompson, ( not his real name ) a rugged outback resident, has lived with FI for decades. His condition first developed when he accidentally tuned into a Greens party press conference while trying to find the footy scores. Within minutes, he broke out in uncontrollable scoffs and an intense craving for a cold beer. Realising the severity of his condition, Bluey devised a simple but effective treatment plan:
Beer Therapy – Consumption of moderate to excessive amounts of beer while staring at a campfire significantly reduces FI symptoms.
Fly Swatting and Mosquito and Sandfly Therapy – Swatting flies and other flying pests not only builds patience but also keeps the mind focused on real, tangible problems rather than hypothetical grievances.
Swag Camping – Sleeping under the stars, away from Wi-Fi signals and urban think tanks, helps cleanse the mind of residual nonsense.
Hard Yakka Detox – Chopping wood, fixing fences, and generally engaging in productive labour acts as an antidote to ideological fluff. Even daily doses of rat eradication and cockroach eradication can be helpful
Adopt a Cat - research shows that having a feline companion can assist. Dogs have also proven to be very effective PI antidotes. Bluey required five cats to alleviate extreme symptoms and still struggles to cope.
Bluey’s case proves that even the most afflicted FI sufferer can lead a fulfilling life - so long as they avoid inner-city cafes, humanities lectures, and government-sponsored poetry slams.
Long-Term Prognosis
While Fuctose Intolerance is a lifelong condition, many sufferers report that with the right coping strategies, they are able to live full, productive lives free from the debilitating effects of leftwing nonsense. The key is to maintain vigilance, question everything, and remember that, much like a government-funded artist’s exhibition on "toxic masculinity in horticulture," the most sugar-laden bullshit often collapses under its own contradictions.
If you or someone you know suffers from Fuctose Intolerance, know that you are not alone. Stay strong, stay skeptical, and most importantly - keep your diet free from bullshit.
Case Study: Dave from America
The first poet took the stage - a guy with a man-bun and a tie-dye shirt that screamed “I compost my feelings.” He launched into a piece about how capitalism was a cisgendered patriarchal cow oppressing the planet. I didn’t get it, but I clapped politely. Then came the second poet, a woman with a buzzcut and a nose ring, who wailed about how her pronouns were being colonized by binary microaggressions. My stomach started to rumble. By the third poet, a non-binary barista named Skyler who free-versed about the systemic violence of gluten, I felt something shift deep in my gut. It wasn’t hunger. It was fuctose poisoning.
The symptoms hit hard: uncontrollable eye-rolling, a sudden urge to yell “Facts don’t care about your feelings!” in the middle of a quiet stanza, and a bloating sensation from all the hot air in the room. I bolted to the bathroom, clutching my sides, muttering, “I just wanted a coffee, not a lecture on how my truck’s exhaust is a hate crime.” The diagnosis was clear - I couldn’t digest the sanctimonious drivel anymore. Too much exposure to leftwing bullshit had overloaded my system.
Dave's doctor wasn’t surprised. “Fuctose intolerance,” he grumbled, scribbling on a notepad. “Avoid MSM, social media threads about privilege, and anything with the word ‘systemic’ in it. You’ll live.” Dave nodded, but he knew it wouldn’t be easy. His sister was a gender studies major, his boss had just mandated DEI training, - the world was a minefield of triggers.
So Dave got creative. Coping strategy numero uno: the deflector. He started carrying a pocket mirror everywhere. Whenever someone launched into a spiel about how his flannel shirt was a symbol of colonial oppression, he’d whip out the mirror and say, “Hey, reflect on that for a sec!” It didn’t stop the lecture, but it gave him a solid five seconds to escape while they stared at their own smug face.
Next up: the distraction. At family dinners, when his sister started ranting about how forks were tools of the patriarchy, Dave would fake a coughing fit, then yell, “Oh no, I think I swallowed a microaggression!” Everyone would panic, and he’d slip out to the garage to chug a beer in peace. Worked like a charm until she caught on and accused him of weaponizing performative masculinity. He just shrugged..... fuctose made him immune to guilt trips.
The real breakthrough came with the absurdity gambit. Dave figured if he couldn’t avoid the bullshit, he’d out-bullshit it. At the next DEI seminar, when the facilitator asked him to share his “lived experience,” Dave stood up, deadpan, and said, “I identify as a toaster. My pronouns are beep/boop, and I feel oppressed by bread’s refusal to acknowledge my heat settings.”
The room went silent. The facilitator blinked, then muttered something about “processing that later.” Meeting adjourned early. Victory.
Living with fuctose intolerance wasn’t easy, but Dave turned it into an art form. He’d wear a “Meat Is My Safe Space” T-shirt to vegan gatherings , and carry a piece of coal to a fossil fuels protest wearing black face and announce that he was a coal porter....
In the end, Dave didn’t cure his fuctose intolerance - honestly, he didn’t want to. It was his body’s way of telling him the world had gone nuts, and he was just along for the ride. So he leaned into it, one sarcastic quip at a time, proving that the best way to cope with bullshit is to shovel it right back - with a grin.
Final Conclusion: The Ultimate Cure
Ultimately, the best way to combat Fuctose Intolerance is not just to avoid high-fuctose nonsense but to develop a refined ability to out-bullshit the bullshit. A sharp wit, a firm grasp of reality, and an unrelenting commitment to calling out absurdity wherever it lurks form the strongest antidote.
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