Some time back, I was on the receiving end of one of those questions that are oh-so-common to those of us in this rag-tag crew of deplorable men’s rights people; foul-mouthed misogynistic heathens, charlatans, warlord barbarians and insufferable mouth-breathers that we all so clearly are.
As one would expect if one has been following my rambling man-baby whining for some time, I didn’t bother replying. I simply can’t be bothered to engage in pointless internet-spats. I have a life outside of the internet, as difficult as that may well be to believe to those who have conjured this mental image of MRA’s as basement dwelling fedora-wielding neckbeards with mommy-issues, tiny dicks, morbid obesity and hygiene problems. None of which magic mental images are, for some reason, considered body-shaming… besides: people drop all pretences of civility when granted the magical aura of relative internet anonymity. And so ad hominem attacks take the place of actual arguments all too often. And I don’t much care for that.
Despite the often aggressive and confrontational tone in my ramblings, I am fairly civil when actually talking to actual people. Too civil by far to be counted amongst the legions of brave internet warriors, engaged in swash-buckling insult-flingings and strange adventures in neo-linguistic acrobatics designed to piss people off. In short: I’m just too nice for the internet.
As a person, I am very shy, careful and reserved. When I introduce my ramblings with “humble hermit host”, I am not exaggerating. I am one wife and a soon-to-be-born daughter away from being considered a true and proper hermit. This is not to be confused with being a shut-in. It has nothing to do with any illness, be that psychological or physiological. I just happen to enjoy solitude; being very comfortable in my own company. More people should learn to be just that, in my humble opinion. Luckily, my wife is of the same character. Even when the rampaging hordes of feministas scorned believe that she is not, going so far as to claim her introverted nature to be a product of me oppressing her wild desire to be bubbly and extroverted… because of course it is. This has happened more than once, more than twice, more than thrice. And from several people, all wielding the high-and-mighty banner of frantic and ferocious feminism. For obviously, none but they know how my wife ought to act. According to the feminist hordes, my wife does not act as a proper lady ought to act. Her behaving as she wants to behave is a problem that can only be remedied by her being forced by the feministas to act according to their image of how a modern woman should act. Very interesting, that. As such, feminism attempts to remove personal agency from my wife and so mould her in their image. A mockery and an affront and an insult to her, in actuality… but, to their beady little pig-eyes, it is them aiding her in her liberation from my pasty patriarchal hands; liberating her from chains which she can not properly see for not being illuminated from within by the scorching, raging, frenzied and cleansing flame of feminism.
But I digress.
I just find it so ridiculously hilarious that the forces supposedly there for female liberation are the ones demanding obedience from my wife; demanding the power and influence to wield her in their image of a proper lady, fainting, damselling and hysterics included.
There is a difference, undoubtedly, between attacking a set of ideas and attacking an individual subscribing to a set of ideas.
I cherish the former and am not fond of the latter, bleeding heart and empathetic arsehole that I am.
Of course; to the irate feminist, attacking feminism is attacking the feminist in question personally. For that is the extent to which these people have allowed themselves to be engulfed by an -ism: criticism of feminism is not only criticism of feminism, but criticism of any individual feminist as well as of women as a group and that ever so elusive term “equality”. And we all want equality, surely?
That is the level of power and influence feminism holds; the power and influence to claim the monopoly on not only women’s issues, but also on men’s issues and the entire idea of equality between the sexes. This is terrifying on its own, as no single idea nor movement nor ideology should be allowed to claim the monopoly on anything.
Make no mistake about it: any “official” discussion or debate on sex and gender is a feminist discussion or debate, feigning both debate and discussion. No other ideas factor into it. This is not good. It ought, in fact, to be cause for concern. Particularly so when this particular set of ideas deem men as a group to be enemies; an out-group that must be changed and altered to suit a feminist idea of how men should be. For men can not speak on behalf of themselves. Feminism is the force to speak on behalf of men, even when only being about women despite being about men as well… it is confusing, but that is the nature of the beast. An easy in for every out. Feminism helps everybody. Except when it doesn’t. But then, it is not real feminism. Because it never fucking is.
As time flew and the wings of feminism grew, along came intersectional feminism, granting them even more power and influence; now the beast demands to hold the reigns on any-and-all social issues which any-and-all supposedly marginalized minority-group may or may not suffer.
The oppressed group of women and of feminism sure as hammered holy hacking-cough hell hold an awful lot of say-and-sway; wields an awful lot of institutional influence and power. I suppose that comes with the territory. None but the oppressed have any real power, you know. It sounds strange, but that is apparently the level we are at in this moment in time. Much hoo and even more woo and pound me too, pretty please, and I shall pound you too, why not, woo-hoo and a merry honk honk to me too.
But, yeah – all rambling aside for the moment: the question I was asked was one of those silly, simpering and ridiculous ones, in which the obvious assumption that men have all the rights, all the power, all the privilege and then some, lies floating on the surface like a blueish-green and bloated corpse in Hillary Clinton’s bondage-chamber bathtub, complete with amplified incredulous tone and hurt fee-fees galore: “Which men’s rights are you really fighting for?!?!?!?” For the mere notion, the mere idea, the mere mention that men deserve human rights and someone to speak their case is a highly offensive notion to those who are convinced that men either have no sex-specific issues, or that men are the issue in-and-of themselves… this idea is often masquerading as the notions of “toxic masculinity” or “fragile masculinity” or some such nonsense that have these fancy academic ideas behind it, and so it is really not hating on men, honest to god, and it is only there to help men get better, honest to god, and so forth and so on… all evidence and articles titled “why can’t we hate men?” and similar to the contrary.
These questions are seldom, if ever, put forth with any honest intention of learning. This I have learned. Quite the contrary. They are put forth, more often than not, with the intent of mockery and ridicule, usually ending with the salty caps-lock-scream of “Incel”, followed by a metaphorical run-away, trails of keyboard-crumbs, cheeto-dust, earwax and offended sensibilities floating behind as a passing reminder of eternal internet folly and social justice brain-bleaching done with baseball bats soaked in plan-b pills and spermicidal cream. The offender then thinking to themselves (one assumes) that “Oh boy, I done triggered them incels good this time! Hopefully, mistress will be kind to me tonight, oh my, oh lawd, have mercy, I might get a crack at dat crack…” if male, or “Oh lawd, how them mens hates the wamens, daring to disagree with a lady saying they should all be killed, oh lawd have mercy!”, if female. Or, well, that’s how I picture them anyway, in my more spiteful and petty moments of unadulterated hate-speech-glee. The truth is most likely not this. It has to do with propaganda… which is a bit more worrying, truth be told.
And so here I sit on a snowy, cold and windy late morning in January, silliness and naivety trailing from my mind onto the keyboard and the flickering screen in front of me, actually assuming the question to be asked in good faith, attempting to reply to it before taking a long break from this rambling-business in order to devote my attention and devotion whole-heartedly to my daughter in her first precious months of life. Obviously in order to inflict nefarious patriarchal brainwashing upon her so that I can oppress her just as much as I oppress my wife. For there can be no greater wish from a father and a husband, truly. Hell, I’m gonna get accused of that, and worse, before long anyway. So why the hell not poke fun at it before it begins? Whatever nonsense they fling your way, gentlemen, you wear that shit like an impenetrable armour. I mean; I would have told them to eat shit, but I’m not entirely sure about the legality of encouraging cannibalism, so I leave that be for the moment.
This will be a lengthy one.
Obviously. The pre-ramble is bad enough.
Oh my, but I just can’t shut up, can I?
The length of it stems from the very simple reason that it is not an easy question to answer. Not for any lack of causes; not for any lack of proper problems; not for any lack of proper evidence; not for any lack of conviction in the very clearly terribly regressive, woman-hating and offensive belief that men deserve rights and that men, as a group, have their needs, problems, issues, experiences and whatever else ignored, neglected or worsened by the current state of affairs.
We have been sold this idea, for decades, that women are worse off than anyone else… and that men are at the root of it all. Feminism is the force that sold us this idea. Coupled with a natural gynocentrism, it is amplified to a ridiculous extent.
Particularly white men are the problem, though men in general are nasty pieces of shit. See, for all its claims about not hating men; for all the ridiculous ideas spewed forth from the gaping rectum of feminist thought that it is not about hating men… it is about hating men. Identity politics, I have come to learn, is simplistic, naive and woefully tribalistic. It does not, in any way, shape or form cause anything but division.
I would dare state that one would not exactly be lost in the woods or drowning in a puddle of nu-metal mud to reach the conclusion that an idea pathogen stating that one group of people – by virtue of their birth – are evil enough to oppress another group of people by virtue of their birth, assumes evil intent on part of the group supposedly doing the oppression.
That is exactly what feminism does.
It assumes sociopathy on behalf of men – on behalf of all men everywhere. For what else could it possibly do, when believing all men everywhere to be so nasty, wicked, evil; so lacking in empathy and basic human decency to willingly oppress and enslave (women were treated as chattel, after all, hurr-durr) not only their wives or girlfriends, but also their sisters, mothers, grandmothers, daughters, etcetera.
This would require a special kind of wickedness; a special kind of lack of empathy and common decency reserved mostly for sociopaths of the Ted Bundy variety. Yet that is the root of feminist thought and dogma; a trail of breadcrumbs that can be traced all the way back to the declaration of sentiments at Seneca falls in 1848. Men are, by nature and by culture, so wicked and morally lacking as to oppress those whom they claim to love. That is the foundational theory of feminism, gentlemen.
The history of mankind is the history of men’s oppression of women, it is stated. And women have just been too damned weak, timid, frail and stupid to do anything about it except for right now. And right then. And right there. And right now, all the way back to hallowed antiquity, one assumes. Patriarchy-theory is a conspiracy theory put forth by an honest-to-god paranoid schizophrenic. People believe it, though. One assumes it is easier than taking control of ones own life and destiny to believe that all ones flaws, faults and failings are the product of the ones who really and truly hold the reigns; the puppet-masters, be they reptilians, the illuminati, the Freemasons, the patriarchy or clusters of sentient sawdust from pornhub-dimension DD-MILF-69. (In before someone accuses me of doing the same with feminism: I do not hold feminism responsible for my own faults and flaws and failings – of which I assure you I have plenty. I do, however, hold them responsible for making it so that the issues men face are neglected, trivialized, routinely ignored, mocked and ridiculed.)
And here I could tick of a list of boxes, mentioning and going in depth on all the men’s rights which we in this special basket of deplorable soggy kneed bastards are fighting for… even when there is disagreement in the ranks on the severity, importance or whatever of any certain topic of contention. The so-called manosphere is not exactly tied together by a common set of beliefs, such as feminism is. It is, I am very happy to say, not an -ism. Should it devolve into an -ism, I will run away screaming in fear and in terror. The social justice ideologues; the feminists and the critical race theorists and analysts, the cult of woke preachers, the postmodernists and the academics and psychologists may all declare masculinity and the men’s rights movement to be ideological in nature. But these people view everything in terms of ideologies, it seems. And so too must everyone else, by their reckoning. For they are the only ones to hold the handle on the well of truth. Men’s rights advocacy is an action. Just as human rights advocacy is an action. For that is precisely what it is: human rights advocacy, albeit with a focus on men. For men’s issues are neglected.
I could mention male genital mutilation of children still being motherfucking legal despite being an obvious violation of bodily autonomy and, for that matter, the child’s religious freedom where this applies… I could mention lop-sided divorce-courts and even more lop-sided child custody. I could mention domestic violence being overlooked when men are the victims and women the perpetrators (looking at you, donut-munching duluth-model), or that the wording of the law in a multitude of places is such that men can not be raped by women, thus rendering rape a crime done solely by men where women are the prime victims… which is no wonder, as a man raped by a woman is counted as “made-to-penetrate” or something like that, thus not making it into the official statistics on rape in quite a lot of places. Also the work of feminism. For North America, it is the work of Mary P. Koss. She considers it improper to label men forced to have sex by women as rape.
Because of course it is.
Can’t skew the rape-statistics in favour of the feminist narrative if men raped by women were to be counted in the rape statistics. Rape requires penetration of the victim to be counted as rape. Forced envelopment is not rape. You can thank feminism for that, despite feminism insisting that this is the fault of the patriarchy.
Almost makes one think that the vast armies of coffee-shop feminists out there have no idea about what their movement is or has done… or still does.
Which is no wonder, in honesty, since it is effectively sold to us through every institutional orifice as only being about equality. Thus, opposition to feminism means opposition to equality to the huddled masses… and worse of all, it has come to mean opposition to women. Shock and horror follows. Anyone opposing feminism is thus guilty of opposing women and equality and women’s equality, whatever the fuck that means at that precise moment in time.
The same holds true for child custody; the presumption being that the mother is the best parent. Apparently, this too is the fault of the patriarchy, burdening women with the horrible task of caring for their – one hopes and one assumes – beloved children… Strange, then, that the feminist organizations fight tooth and nail against a default shared parenting post-divorce… Strange, too, that the horrible dead-beat dads out there so long to see their children that they often commit suicide when denied this. Parental alienation is a thing that occurs, and it is mainly perpetrated by women. I can scarce imagine a worse form of abuse.
I remember when Spain put forth the idea of a default 50/50 custody. It is some years ago now. The feminist hive-mind broke out in hives and sweaty, itchy rashes, claiming this to put women’s rights back a hundred years or whatever. Fathers being allowed to see their children? This is obviously a trespass on the rights of mothers and a horribly regressive action. Despite women obviously being burdened by having to take care of their children. Really strange behaviour all around. I suppose these were not real feminists, because they never are, depending on the what and where and how and such. A brilliant out, this no-true-scotsman-fallacy. No real feminist would enjoy sugar on their porridge, nor would they enjoy the “tender years doctrine”. Unless they do, which makes them unreal real feminists of the ethereal variety, all ghostlike apparitions and magic incantations and such.
One could also point to the articles popping up in the British tabloid press about how horrible it was for women to see their children only on the weekends… you know; like fathers have been made to do for decades. What a horrible crime to do to women; “forcing” them to care for their children is just as nasty as “forcing” them not to care for their children.
Nevermind the fathers, though, they don’t matter and besides – fathers seeking custody of their children is just another tool in the toolbox of the oppressor and the abuser, despite it also being oppression and abuse for mothers to gain full custody. Yeah. The loopy nature of it all is such that, no matter, it can be turned around to be bad for women and the fault of men. Loop-de-loop and the glorious return of the Ourobouros.
I could also mention male lack of reproductive rights. We have none. I could mention how much money is spent on researching female health as opposed to male health. This despite feminist insistence that male-specific illnesses is granted more money and time than female-specific illnesses. Feminist reality is not measurable reality. It is a different kind of reality. The Norwegian government has recently begun their third exploration on female health. Still has not done one on male health, despite men dying younger by this and that and the other. Not that this matters, of course. It is only men, after all.
I could mention the lack of attention and focus on male suicide. Male underachievement in schools. Men dropping out, not only of education but also of society as a whole. Female criminals given leniency in law where male criminals are not, also known as the sentencing-gap. (This delightfully defended by the scores of feminists scorned as being because men are more likely to re-offend. Gendered discrimination is quite alright, as long as it favours women and hurts men…) All, of course, painted to be the fault of men, in the dubious guise of the patriarchy. “It is men doing it”, they say, assuming this to be a got-cha. Brilliant. This is psychological projection, though. Since feminism as a whole blame the opposite sex, they assume those in opposition to feminism must also do just that. This is nonsense. Both men and women are responsible for society, with all its wrongs and rights. But that, I suppose, lacks in dualism and is way to nuanced a view, in this era of the black-and-white thinking.
This they also claim, despite feminist lobbying; despite judges in Great Britain being told to be especially lenient towards female offenders; despite feminism wanting to get rid of prisons for women all together.
To reiterate, and please don’t get me wrong – men are also at fault. It takes two to tango, after all. And men, in their prime state of evil misogyny, can not easily say no to women. That is our nature and our social conditioning, and it is not an easy pattern to break out of. Particularly not for young men in the full bloom of their pointed, poignant and throbbing manhood.
Oh, excuse me. I near forgot: it is not the fault of men. It is the fault of the patriarchy, which is men but it is really not men even if it is men. A system designed to help men at the expense of women, which also hurts men and often more than it hurts women, but still hurts women more. Harumph. Defund gender studies, please. It is a silly place.
Feminism doesn’t hate men. It just named everything perceivable and measurably bad in the world after men, and can’t stop grumbling about the horrible nature of men. Even bad things done by women are the fault of men, be that internalized misogyny or women suffering from toxic masculinity. No toxic femininity here, no sirre-bob. Men’s flaws are the fault of masculinity, and so too are women’s flaws.
When presenting the world as being run solely by men, despite there being quite a lot of women leaders and influences around – particularly in education and academia – the blame can always be put on men. Despite feminist lobbying groups lobbying for all manner of nasty and discriminatory laws, rules and regulations. That is, of course, positive discrimination. For it favours women, and so it is all quite alright. Men don’t matter. And never have. Men are disposable. And that is the crux of it all: the empathy-gap.
Feminist thought is deliberately twisted and obscured, made just so as to create an easy out for every in. As long as women can be shown as victims and men as perpetrators, or at the very least show women as oppressed and men as privileged, there are no limits to the amazing mental gymnastics, the twisting and the turning.
Attacking feminism is not an attack on women. The two are not one and the same. Just as advocacy for women does not mean feminism. Just as I have no problems with advocacy for men, I have no problems with advocacy for women. There’s that whole human rights thing again.
What I have issues with is the ridiculous, the incredible focus our society has on women and all their ills, manufactured and overblown or not, and the equally ridiculous and incredible lack of focus on men’s issues, no matter what they are.
All this whilst feminism insists that women are oppressed, their voices never heard. To believe this to be truth, particularly when shown evidence to the contrary, one has to be wilfully blind.
One of feminisms complaints is that men always pop into any discussion on women’s issues with “but what about the menz?!?!?”. Well, that is really not all that strange, considering how often any and all issue is made to mainly affect women; how any discussion has to be about women first and foremost.
There is no room to discuss men’s issues, and so we have to make that space, take that room. Particularly regarding violence. Men are the main victims of violence every-fucking-where. And still, we must end violence against women. Men don’t matter, because men are the ones being violent. Interesting, that. One should care less about the victim on the basis of sex. Sharing genitals with ones attacker immediately makes the attack matter less; the victim less of a victim.
Violent women also exist, but we don’t talk about them. Women, after all, are wonderful.
I could tick of a lot of boxes. My main thing, though – my main area of focus is all a matter of perspective.
To make it clearer, it is a matter of the male perspective. The male experience. Something which we don’t care much about in this crazy and lopsided world of ours. Every debate on sex, or on gender, is not a debate. It is a feminist circle-jerk where the voices of women are the most important – if those voices are feminist women, of course – and the voices of men are only ever heard if they show deference, allegiance and submission to the feminist perspective and the feminist narrative. Men, after all, are obsolete. Because feminism told me so.
The age we live in is an age where the battle-cry is one of “lived experience”. The lived experience must be taken seriously and taken into account. But only if it is the lived experience of women. The lived experience of men don’t matter. Probably because that would punch a giant fist-shaped hole in the chest-cavity of the feminist narrative.
By denying, ridiculing or outright refusing to let the stories and experiences of men be told and heard; by allowing nothing but the stories and the experiences of women to be told and heard (#believewomen #metoo, for example) the feminist narrative of the poor, timid, helpless, frail, oppressed and eternally victimized woman reigns supreme. Particularly so – and to reiterate – when only allowing for the experiences of feminist women to be told.
Women, such as my wife, whose experiences run quite contrary to the feminist victim-narrative, are not “allowed” to tell their stories. They are ridiculed by the forces supposedly there to liberate women and allow them to tell their tales of woe and worry. They are bootlickers of the patriarchy, vile gender-traitors and hopelessly brainwashed by the might and influence of the patriarchy. They are victims too, but they can’t see it and so feminism can attack them with whatever harassment they deem proper, despite harassment of women online being a terrible thing to happen to women.
I don’t believe women to be the problem. Nor do I believe men are the problem. Feminism is. Gynocentrism is. Human nature is. And it is big, and it is mighty and it is institutionalized; it is long and it is hard and it is uncut, and it is poking at our communal anus with the full force of evolutionary instinct behind it.
Men who tell their stories are routinely mocked and ridiculed.
I bathe in male tears, I drink male tears, fragile man-baby, whining man-children, and similar sentiments are thrown around by the feminist hordes, whose claim that men will be fixed and salvaged from their horrible masculinity if they only open up and talk about their emotions and experiences fall flat on its face when faced with men who open up and talk about their emotions and their experiences. Because the above are thrown about, laying ever more proof about the gaping fissure that is the empathy-gap atop the already giant pile of proof.
It is only anecdotal, it is lies and it is bullshit; we are only saying this to hate on women, then it is #notallwomen, then it is gendered stereotyping, then you just want to chain women to the kitchen, then it is this and it is that and it is the other. All manner of diversionary tactics are deployed so that the male experience can be dismissed, unless it falls in line with the feminist narrative.
Feminism has become the dominant ideology in this day and age; one which all and sundry must show allegiance to, under fear of being cast out and ostracised. Ideological purity is demanded.
And the female experience is celebrated and held up as truth-without-doubt. If and when it falls in line with the feminist narrative. And so too is the male experience – if and when it falls in line with the feminist narrative. The personal must be made political. The anecdotal must be taken as truth. One must, above all else, believe women. By which it is meant that one must, above all else, believe feminism.
And so come the teary tales of teary torture; of oppression and abuse. All terrible stories, no doubt. All stories that must be believed, no matter.
And that is the sign of the times, the banner under which all shall flock, gather and celebrate. The lived experience.
I believe men should follow the call of the mighty herald; that we should all flock to the same banner: to tell our lived experience, our stories, our experiences of life in a feminist culture where girls and women are celebrated, be that individually or as a group… and where boys and men are routinely mocked and ridiculed, be that as individuals or as a group. This is a sure sign of the empathy-gap. Boys and men experience far less empathy than do women and girls, all the time and all around. Even when feminism declares the opposite. Which don’t hold sway the moment feminism comes calling that the issues of men is that they are told to “man up”, which one assumes is proof proper of the empathy-gap, but, oh well, consistency don’t matter when the reasoning is emotional first and foremost.
With feminist influence all around, this can only get worse before it gets better.
And so, little by little, I tell my stories. I share my lived experience. Amongst other things, obviously.
A very difficult thing to do, in all honesty.
Firstly because of my introverted nature.
Secondly because the very personal and private nature of the things makes it rather difficult to do.
Thirdly because of the mockery and ridicule that always follows; the insults and the name-calling, the shit-flinging and knuckle-dragging idiocy of adherents to the serpent cult, so hell bent on seeing women as oppressed victims that the mere mention that men are not doing good and are not treated well is seen as an attack on the decency and humanity of women.
For feminism is psychological projection given material shape and form and substance. What feminism does, feminism believes us to do. Few MRA’s blame women. Many blame feminism, this is true. But feminism is not women. And pointing a finger towards feminism is not pointing fingers towards women, even when they falsely claim that it is.
The patriarchy, I have come to believe, is feminism projecting their own thoughts and actions towards men – all men. This is what feminism does when in power, and so that must be what men do when in power. Albeit with the sexes reversed. And all the protests; all the shutting-down of talks on men’s issues; all the fuck-faces and bomb-threats and pulling of fire-alarms; all the disturbances; all the refusals to set up men’s groups on campuses; all the shutting down of male-only spaces; all the tearing down of everything to do with men’s rights is proof proper of feminism not only neglecting, but actively opposing any mention of issues facing men if they themselves do not wield control of the talks or the groups or the conferences. All must be seen from the crocodile-teared vantage-point of feminist victimology. Feminism must hold the reigns, or else.
The patriarchy is not a nefarious group of shadowy figures pulling the strings behind the scenes, but all men. Men must fix themselves, men must better themselves, men must take a long and good look at themselves and their masculinity, men must unlearn their toxic masculinity, men must become more feminine, men must do this and men must do that and men must do all the other. And when men do this and that and the other, the hordes wonder where all the good men have gone; men dropping out of education and not getting them high-and-mighty jobs means there are less men that are suitable marriage-material. This is also shown as a problem affecting women. Men suffer – here’s how this impacts women. To which I might actually agree, in a way. Not in the way feminism presents it; not in the way our gynocentric societies may present it, but in the way I think: when one suffers, when one struggles, the whole will eventually suffer. Our societies will not exactly thrive with scores of distraught, disenfranchised and purposeless men floating around like driftwood eternally crashing against the shores of contempt and judgement.
Women, on the other hand, must not do anything but smash the patriarchy. Which is not all men, even when it is men that is routinely mocked, ridiculed, scorned and I would even dare say abused by this ridiculous thought-virus that have grown into a vast global movement, hell-bent on something, whatever that something may be. It is petty squabbles and even pettier grievances amplified to the nth degree. Whatever it is, it must be made to be an issue predominantly affecting women. The whole world in chaos from the brewsky bug? Here’s how women are most affected. Let me count the ways. One, two, double-fart and shart.
One could almost believe it to be a tactic of diversion; to flood the stream of information with all these horrible issues affecting women that must be fixed and mended, in order to drown out the voices of men.
And so, the silent majority, who don’t delve into this and who don’t really care much about it either way, swallow the news and swallow the stories and go on their merry way; of course I support feminism – I support equality, I support women – hell; my wife can do whatever she wants, I have always supported her choices, so I must be a feminist… and on and on.
And the coffee-shop feminists flood the vile corners of the internet where men congregate to hate on women; plotting the downfall of women in order to rape, ravage, ruin and so-and-such, with the same old sentiments that we are all so accustomed to and most likely bored to death by: that is not real feminism, feminism is about equality.
And none of these supposedly real feminists have any idea or any inkling about what rules, laws and regulations the mighty, influential, powerful feminists have put in place that directly damages boys and men; that ignores them and revels in their plight.
When I talk about my experiences in schools and in education, I am telling the truth. I am telling my lived experience.
What happens under the radiant stare of feminist ideologues masquerading as teachers, set loose upon the unsuspecting troops of children there to learn is not a just, decent, equal or good thing.
In school, I was routinely told of the immaturity of boys by teachers – one in particular; the violent nature of boys and men and the oppression of girls and women which we so terribly maintained through being boys and becoming men.
Our sexuality was base, primal, raw, impulsive and violent. And so too was our rough-housing, our way of playing.
As opposed to the clean, gorgeous, saintly and beautiful morality and sexuality of girls and women; as opposed to the ordered and calm playtime of the girls.
Time and again, this was told and presented. Anytime there was an opportunity to highlight girls and bring down boys, it was well spent and well worn.
And come teenage years and puberty, plenty girls in class and in school became ardent followers of feminism, fighting tooth and nail against the patriarchy and the oppressive nature of men… and boys. What else could they possibly become? They had been taught that they were oppressed. Despite being allowed to protest and speak and all that other stuff; cheered on by teachers and such.
Very strange and peculiar, that. But no matter: the patriarchy works in mysterious ways.
One of their “causes” I remember, was complaining that a male doctor earned more than a female nurse. This is ridiculous, but, again: no matter. It is feminism, after all.
I also remember one of them chewing me out on my birthday because my birthday just happens to fall on the international day of the master-sex. Grand and glorious, no doubt. My celebration of my birthday distracted from the horrible plight of women. And so goes the worm, burrowing into the minds of those susceptible to indoctrination. Because that is exactly what it is.
Of course; I can not blame teenagers for acting like immature teenagers. Goodness gracious me. However: when still acting like a teenager when one is in ones thirties, one might take a look at growing up and reaching some level of emotional and intellectual maturity.
The letter of the Norwegian law states about equality that it’s main focus is to help women and other minorities. For this is equality. And, of course, proof proper that women are oppressed and discriminated against ever so much.
Why else would the law state this?
The law quite clearly proves that boys and men are – by law – discriminated against, but that don’t matter much in the double-speak days of this dreary dusty daze.
Boys and men need not apply. To anything.
And we do so with gusto, given how many boys and men drop out completely. We surely do not apply. We do not partake.
We become bruised and beat and battered, forgotten and neglected and forlorn… completely lost and cast adrift. What Warren Farrel has dubbed “the boy crisis”.
What we suffer, struggle through and experience is of little matter and no relevance. Me too was only about women. This the few men who dared take part and tell their stories were told. Men must make their own social media malarkey. For the stories of men is only anecdotal, despite lived experience in itself being purely anecdotal; despite the whole of the me too nonsense being highly anecdotal. The stories of men are only told to distract from women, foul diversions cast by even fouler men.
But that’s the way of it – women’s anecdotal experience is to be believed and seen as part of a whole, where men’s anecdotal experience is to be seen on a case-by-case basis, then dismissed, then ridiculed, then thrown away like lies and bullshit…
And this ought to be changed.
And this must be changed.
And that is, as stated, a matter of perspective.
A matter of the male perspective; not a female perspective, not a feminist perspective, but the male perspective. The male experience. That is what I wish for; what I fight for – if you will allow me some rather dramatic language. I would rather not have to fight this fight, but that’s how it goes.
The “right” to be heard without being dismissed from up high as this or as that or the other; without being treated like David Copperfield asking “Please, sir, could I have some more?”
The right to object to feminism without being labelled this and that, accused of hate-speech and so summarily cancelled, cast out of the this and the that. Hell; I’d be happy to just be able to enjoy a beer outside without being accused of oppressing my wife… as actually has happened. Or, you know – be able to study without being accused of the same. As also have happened. Apparently, since this is something that repeats and repeats and repeats, this is impossible to do, if male.
Granted, to claim the “right” to be heard without being dismissed or ridiculed is a ridiculous right to claim. What I mean by this, you see, is the right to be heard by the fucking government, whose salaries are very much paid by our taxes.
See: I have contacted the Norwegian department of equality – there to fix all in matters of muh discrimination – several times regarding fairly obvious discrimination of boys and of men, and have been dismissed each and every time. The last time, they told me to not contact them again. Which is interesting.
And a wee bit terrifying.
The department of equality is not a department of equality. It is a department for women, mainly ran by women. They don’t follow their own rules about gender representation in the workplace. There’s too many women there according to the gender-qouta nonsense, in actuality. They don’t follow their own rules.
But, no matter, I will be contacting them once more soon enough about yet another case of obvious gendered discrimination. And I expect to be dismissed again.
It would be very nice to see some actual attempts at working on male-specific issues from the powers-that-be. From a perspective that is not feminist. For the feminist perspective states only that men must change.
Women struggle, society must change.
Men struggle, men must change.
That pipe-dream of mine will never happen as long as the feminist influence is such as it is. Feminism plays a zero-sum game.
I, for my part, only wish for the voices of men to be heard amongst all the clamour. For not all is milk and honey in the land of men, and the causes and the reasons and the solutions… all of this is more complex and more convoluted than can be explained by any system, no matter how complex and how marinated and steeped in ideas, be that the so-called red pill philosophy or feminism, be that traditionalism or progressivism, conservatism or liberalism… Any set of ideas that attempt to easily define complex systems have its own peculiar flaws.
At the end of the day, it is not group identity that defines us; it is not random chances of birth; haphazard chromosome-dances or genetic fluctuations. What defines us is our humanity, our personality, our psychology, our unique individuality.
What makes us us is our stories and our experiences.
And those stories and those experiences I wish to be told and shared and spread around. For we are all a product of what has happened; a product of our stories and our experiences and our lives.
The common man’s experience. Those matter.
Not dusty, dry and dreary academes with high-and-mighty hoity-toity ideas, with heads so far up the clouds that their feet forgot how to touch the ground… or with heads so far up their arse they believe their farts to be gusts of inspiration… not putrid politicians whose fingernails have never had dirt beneath them; whose main preoccupation is the harvesting of votes and the continuation of their careers… who will do and say anything to gain the majority vote… which just so happens to be the female vote.
Not billionaires or celebrities who lost touch with the real world decades ago… who believe everyone to be part of the same bubble as they, saying in all but these exact words: “let them eat cake”.
Common everyday men whose lives are as common lives are; trying to get by, trying to feed himself, trying to care for those closest to him. Those whom he loves. Whom he is told that he oppress and abuse and neglect, no matter what he does. For the goalposts are always and ever moving, and it can never be good enough as long as they are allowed to be kept moving.
We have paid tribute and deference to feminism for so long that feminism has become nigh-invincible, has become untouchable, unquenchable, almost illegal to criticize.
If so-called “misogyny” becomes illegal, as they try to achieve in Great Britain, you can bet your balls and shaft and all that feminism will become illegal to criticize… after all, none but feminism gets to decide what constitutes misogyny.
Or women’s issues.
Or men’s issues.
Or whatever else that matters, for that matter.
This is an amount of power no movement should ever achieve, no -ism should ever wield. Particularly not one who proposes to be an oppressed and marginalized voice, oppressed and marginalized by the remaining half of the global population, no less.
I have stated before, and I will state it again: I do not believe men to be oppressed. That is not the word I would use. I would not use this word for women either. Neither here, nor there.
The eternal dance done between men and women is not one of oppression and abuse, I wholeheartedly believe, but one of cooperation and trust; of each doing for the other in order to survive.
A pact and an agreement… unwritten rules made out of necessity in order that we should survive as a species.
An agreement where, now – due to feminist influence – the female part is absolved but the male part remains; to be a provider and a protector. Liberation from gender-norms is just for women. Though it is claimed to be for men as well, the #heforshe nonsense disproved that. For what is #heforshe but no more and no less than what men have always done? To provide and to protect. With an emphasis on protect.
Men are not oppressed to my eyes.
Not by women, not by feminism and not by society.
No more or no less than any other group. We are, however neglected; our stories ignored and our troubles dismissed. We are disposable, expendable and all-too-much dependable. We are forgotten and we are cast adrift. For all that matters is to help women and to listen to women. And that must change. Otherwise, the whole fucking thing will explode.
And I don’t much wish for that.
And that was that, guys. I will be taking a fairly long break from writing and rambling now, in order to care for my daughter and in order to bask in the rays of fatherhood, sleep-deprivation and exhaustion included. I don’t know when I will be back to rambling as per usual, though I may update on occasion as time and duty allows. Of course, I will pop in to shill my highly professional self-published books. Though this goes without saying. What kind of writer would I be, if I did not attempt – at every single moment – to sell my hate-speech wares to those unfortunate enough to fall into my web of tricksy words?
Until then: take it easy. I’ll catch you next time.
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- Moiret Allegiere, 16.01.2021
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