Andrew Tate is a Virgin
It’s weird if he’s your hero
‘So there were twelve of them out there, right, and they all had machetes and brass knuckles, and my brother and I just knocked them all out with our Bruce Lee moves, and then we stole all their girlfriends and banged them on the back of Elon Musk’s rocket’
The above is an actual quote that Andrew Tate didn’t say. I mean, he probably has said all those words, but there’s no record of him saying them in that order.
Now, if you’re unfortunate enough to know what Tate sounds like, I bet you read that in his voice. And I bet it sounded exactly like something he would say. You can scroll down Facebook videos whenever you like and there is a finite amount of time until his funny-shaped head pops up to tell you about all the women he has shagged, all the men he’s beaten up, and lots of other works of fiction.
Now, to extend the thought experiment a bit further, read that quote again in the voice of Jay from the sitcom The Inbetweeners. Does it sound any more or less realistic? If you’ve never seen The Inbetweeners, instead substitute his voice for that of any bullshitting spotty fourteen-year-old who has never spoken to a female and would physically cack themselves at the thought actually going through with any hanky panky.
There are videos of Tate strolling around, smoking a cigar with his top off, swinging nunchuck around like one of those fake gymnasts that dick about with a ribbon at the Olympics. There is a video of him slagging off people for wearing headphones because he says that they prevent you from being ‘combat-ready’.
Why do I need to be combat-ready in Sainsbury’s, Andrew? What terrible choices have I made in life where I’m going to be attacked from behind while I’m grabbing some mange-tout?
But people lap it up.
Young men look at this weirdo, spending £200 on a haircut just to look like a furry plum like he is something to aspire to. One day, if I work really hard, say lots of stuff I don’t really believe, espouse misogyny and division, and am an utter bell-end to everyone around me, I too could be an embarrassing poser.
Or prime minister.
This man became, by some legitimate metrics, one of the most famous people in the world almost overnight, off the back of comments that you could hear in any school playground, or any Weatherspoons pub at 11 am on a Tuesday.
He’s since been arrested and charged with some heinous crimes in his current country of residence of Romania, showing that behind all the bluster he’s probably a really terrible human as well. However, and this may be a fault on my part, I just can’t get beyond the bluster. I can’t care about the evil when it’s coming from such a cringe-worthy little sausage.
He’s the sort of drip that tells all his mates that his girlfriend is a supermodel but they can’t meet her because she’s working abroad. He’s the sort of wet flannel that tell all his boys that he’s a multi-millionaire but insists that they get the drinks in because he has forgotten his wallet. He’s the sort of twat who calls women bitches and himself an ‘OG’, and if that is what young men aspire to be then I truly fear for the future of the species.
I think it’s time we just watch The Inbetweeners instead of living it.
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