Should you be unaware that the internet often brings out the worst in people, I believe you are lying. Or blind. Or you have been living in a cave without access to the internet for the past 28 ½ years.
Not that I’m judging, of course – I can quite understand the wish to be a hermit. Yet, such is the way of it: one has not been present on the internet if this has gone unnoticed.
There is a strange lack of self-censorship and civility when people are faced with digital keystrokes instead of real life flapping tongues and galloping lips.
It is as though people believe that the text they see is not another human being typing. It is merely machine-text texting, to be easily dismissed as a Russian bot, a troll, or some other nonsensical buzzword-effort at dehumanizing and dismissing instead of considering and digesting what is actually being said. It is remarkably easy to do. Usually, it follows the same pattern:
Person A says something.
Person B says something contrary.
Person A responds with dismissing Person B as a Russian bot. (Substitute “Russian” for whatever bogeyman is currently in vogue.) And then promptly blocks the bastard-bot, son of a thousand machine-whores that he of course is, with neither thought nor self-awareness present.
Rinse and repeat.
It is pure internet-magic from putrid internet tacticians. Every day, we stray further from God and from God’s good graces. Every day, I lose a little more of my faith in humanity.
Oh, the humanity!
This tactic is such a marvellously tried and true formula that it could easily be dubbed “Copypasta”.
Such Artful, much wondrous, wow!
Were it not for the inconvenient fact that Copypasta is made to ruin every last bit of originality, it would be an exercise in pure social experiment clickbait. Masquerading as art, just for the sake of it.
Relax, brah, it’s just a social experiment. Just as the whole rest of the world is; a science project that saw God receive a D. Maybe a D+. Good effort, terrible execution. Back to the drawing board, God. Jesus Christ, I know you can do better, buddy, now put some backbone into it!
Originality, as we so often see, is of no consequence when there are contrarians and other vile cretins to contend with on the internet. Copypasta; for fun and profit!
Besides; ones own opinion is hallowed and sanctified, no matter how inane and ridiculous. Responding to it with disagreement, however civil, is akin to harassment. But only if the victim of someone responding to their chicanery in an open forum that is open for all the forum-happy world to see happens to be a woman, or a minority. This rule does come with its own exception, as expected. For it is only when and if they are partial to the shenanigans of Social Justice, as well as being faithful adherents to the cult of woke, that it is to be considered harassment.
One could always choose not to get engaged in online feuds, arguments, petty squabbles and such silly bickering. No matter where one is, no matter what one does, somewhere on the internet, someone is wrong. This is just a fact of life. To engage each and every person who holds different opinions, no matter how factual (because there is a vast difference between having an opinion and having a fact) seems to me to be a waste of time and energy best spent elsewhere.
Particularly so when someone argues in very bad faith, using all the mental gymnastics, all the lies and slander and smears and jet-black oily manipulation a Russian bot could ever hope to eat.
A lot of the opinions on the internet are presented as nothing but shitty reposts… strange pictures with some manner of text on them meant to elicit an immediate emotional response, either that way or this way. Seeing as every repost is always a repost of a repost, one has to get fairly tired of trying to refute them and challenge them again and again. It just ain’t worth the hassle.
Granted, this line of thinking comes from a bearded bard who is turning more introverted and reserved with every passing day. It often takes me days – or even weeks – to respond to a single private message or email. So there’s that, of course. I am not the most social of creatures, to say the least.
This is not to say that I don’t believe there are merits to online discussion. I spend far too much time reading and observing debates online to have no faith in it. However: there is precious little point in arguing with someone who has no interest in listening. And that is so often the case when encountering someone who is – as Jordan Peterson puts it – ideologically possessed. They do not talk with someone. They do not engage in discussion or debate as such.
No, no, no.
They talk at someone. Not with someone. Ears close and reason leaves the moment someone disagrees, no matter how well sourced, how well put together, how well informed. Facts and numbers do not matter. Pointing out errors in statistics, or in methodology (something I am not skilled at, but I have observed others that are extraordinarily skilled at it), for example, is inconsequential to someone who has decided that they are in the right, no matter what, and where, and when, and how.
The so-called gender wage-gap is a prime example of this. Debunked time and again, and still living on. Because these people really and truly want to be oppressed. The same can be said for the nonsensical “Pink Tax”, and most everything else they can manufacture. It is either a dirty, rotten lie, or it is half-facts that conveniently neglect to mention the other part of the equation. It gets droll and dull and boring and tiring after a while. Yet, as long as there is social currency in victimhood, it will carry on.
There is no purpose to feminism if feminism has no purpose. And the purpose of feminism – as I believe is the case with all the social justice warrior stuff, steeped in childish identity politics as it is – is to perpetuate itself. It is to keep itself going, marching forward toward an uncertain future.
In order to do so, they have to be able to present themselves as being oppressed. The cause, in itself, is the cause. It is the beginning and the end. And the middle.
“What are we fighting for, fellow peoplekind-comrades of non-gender specifics?”
“The Fight, comrade, the fight!”
And so it goes, on and bloody on.
If shown – if proven beyond doubt – to not be oppressed, they lose their purpose. They have no big bad daddy to fight if the big bad daddy is proven to not exist as they have presented it. So it is better to double down, ignore the truth, and carry on as though nothing happened.
It is a vile sickness, a terrible blight on society, this celebration of victimhood, this willingness to be seen as a victim, this eagerness to be counted among the downtrodden, the gleeful acceptance, this tragic ambivalence, to being “oppressed”. It is fucked up social currency in a nonsensical social game; its slap-happy followers speeding drunk down the information highway, posting one stupid so-called empowering pictogram of overcoming perceived oppression after the other, where relation to the original topic decreases with every single post. Best to not engage.
It is an obscene celebration of character-flaws masquerading as strength, where overcoming obstacles and hurdles no longer matters or are of any importance for one chooses to petition the government to ban the obstacles and criminalise the hurdles instead. And if said hurdles and obstacles are a few individuals who dislike this or do not agree with that, then that dislike, that disagreement, must be considered hate and swift action be taken promptly by the strong whip-lash hand of the law. This is prime egotism.
Particularly so when the laws and regulations that spawn from such petitioning wind up being very much discriminatory in-and-off themselves.
How can one look to a government that states that there are too many of this demographic working here, so you have to even it out by hiring quite a few of that demographic, otherwise there will be hell to pay, and claim this to be non-discriminatory?
Sorry you didn’t get the job, boy, but the government has decided that your outie is wrong for this job, we need an innie. Your credentials look great, by the way. Better luck somewhere else, buddy.
It truly is a sad state of affairs, when people are so devoid of any personality or character trait that they would resort to wallowing in wallopped victimhood instead of working on bettering themselves… instead of cultivating a personality, people cultivate victimhood. Instead of learning a new skill, instead of pouring time and energy into a hobby, people sit flat on their haemorrhoids and wallow in victimhood, going neither here nor there, but staying exactly where they are because they can not do anything but that because they are only ever a victim of this or of that.
Yet, I do get where it comes from, to an extent.
Hurdles and obstacles are incredibly difficult to overcome. I have overcome quite a few myself, and still have a whole hell of a lot to overcome. This despite being a severely privileged white, cis-gendered, heterosexual male, basking in the glow of my eternal privilege and bathing in the rich waters of whatever it is the patriarchy is supposed to give me for free. I assume free handjobs and a harem of scantily clad lesbians or bi-curious women feeding me grapes. Unfortunately, the patriarchy has been slow in paying me my dues. Ah, well, all good things come to those who wait.
I have overcome severely disabling anxiety, shut-in tendencies and a particularly rough encounter with psychosis. None of these were easy to overcome. I have also struggled with a chronic depression for close-to two decades. For living with the constant tension from this anxiety (amongst other things) for almost fifteen years, I now live with chronic pain and fatigue which, at times, are close to unbearable. Yet: the dogs must be taken for walks, the apartment must be cleaned, food must be cooked, my rambles must be written, then ranted, raved and uploaded, etc etc. All these things help in overcoming whatever it is that needs to be overcome. A wise course of action.
The easy path to take, when faced with these hurdles, is to lie down and give up. On everything. It is the easiest path, and it is the least fulfilling path. Sure; I may complain about it. I may bitch and moan about my insomnia and my pain. Particularly when writing. This is very cathartic. I have no interest in using it as a tool to get my will, or to get cheap sympathy-points. Which, for all intents and purposes, are rare currency where men are concerned any way, so why bother? Get over it and do carry on, pretty please with sugar on top.
Yet, to some people, this so-called weakness, this so-called oppression, this victim-identity gives a reason for existing. It gives a perverse sense of purpose.
Which is why, I believe, you see feminism complain that the latest overpriced god-damned luxury-item Iphone is too big for the tiny and inferior female hands, and so this is supreme sexism. I can hardly think of anything more of a bloody god-damned fucking privileged upper-class-twat first-world non-issue than that. Bloody petty whining from insecure victims with a degree in supreme victimology from the university of woe-is-me! I can’t even bloody afford an Iphone. Where’s my victim-credentials, you absolute turd-maggots? I’m too privileged. That’s my problem.
They may not be able to overcome the terrible burden of having tiny, childlike hands… but, ye gods, are they adept at objecting to the so-called oppression from the luxury brands which they are privileged enough to afford. It is topsy-turvy with gravy on top.
They may, at the very least, post about this terrible oppression on the internet in the most glorious slacktivist way. Why should we care about the disturbing amount of male suicides or work-related injuries and death? Why should we make it illegal to genitally mutilate baby boys, subjecting them to torture and possible death? There are more important matters at hand: the tiny ferret-like hands of the female and its relation to the phallocentric Iphone, mirroring, as it does, all of patriarchy through all our ovary-acting herstory of hysteria. Feminism is quite adept at turning everything into a zero-sum game. They believe that talking about men’s issues will detract from feminist issues – which are not the same as female issues – for the very simple reason that they wish to detract from male issues. It is projection. Feminism plays the zero-sum game, then pretends everyone else does as well.
And so there is a purpose to life for these baby-handed ferrets, and that purpose is to force the entirety of the world to fall to their knees and praise the cult of woke, the church of social justice, the grand majesty of feminist up-fuckery with all their victim-hierarchies and weird penis envy.
Enter the cold and uncaring ban-hammer fantastic.
Enter tiny Iphones for the small-handed females with their inferiority-complex.
Enter highly subjective hate-speech laws and hate-crime and whatever and whatnot.
Enter a slow and steady slip-slide into censorious totalitarianism, into thought-controlling authoritarianism, into elitist victimhood circles and their laws on compelled speech, compelled thought, manipulated language from lascivious language manipulators of a herd-like victim-mentality… who believe they are doing good, who believe they are working from liberal principles… yet do nothing but push the walls ever closer… who do nothing but tighten the screws and limit liberty as much as can be.
Or am I being too harsh, too snarky, too sarcastic, even?
I don’t know man… I more or less gave up any discussion on the internet aeons ago. I mean – one could probably make the case that me writing and posting what I write and post is discussing on the internet. But when I flat out refuse to engage in debates and things of that nature, am I really adding to a discussion, or am I just sitting in a fortified compound I refer to as my apartment, screaming at the walls and clawing at my own eyes so that I shall not have to see any more of those god-damned, god-awful, god-forsaken reposts? That is, if I am able to keep my mind on track long enough to not get distracted by random passer-by thoughts that somehow allow themselves to be weaved into an already way-too-long rambling rant… Ye Gods, But I do Blabber on when I write. Probably for reasons of not being a good speaker.
I used to take part in discussions. With fondness. Not too long ago, in all actuality. Yet, when I realised that any topic could easily be turned into something completely unrelated, I kinda lost interest, lost faith and lost touch with the whole universal kerfluffle. No matter which discussion, someone had to come along and make it about the plight of women and how feminism will save us all. I wish I were joking. I am not.
I once joked on Facebook that “There is nothing wrong with society, when taken in moderation”. I got so much god-damned flak for that simple and silly little joke that I lost faith in humanity for a few weeks. For those who are uninitiated: there is quite a lot wrong with society. Also: all faults of society are to be blamed on white men. I was given a few lectures after that very obvious joke. The internet sure as hell brings out the best in people.
To get back to the hurdles and obstacles thing a bit: The anxiety I used to struggle with was the kind of anxiety that made me not leave my apartment, that made me lock myself away and throw away the key. I fixed this by picking myself up by the scruff of my scrawny neck and kicking myself in the ass enough times to make a difference. It was not an easy journey. Not by any stretch of the imagination.
But I managed it, and though I still feel that old anxiety creeping up from time to time – particularly in times of high stress, or at times when my insomnia is very bothersome – I no longer struggle with anxiety.
Thus, I found myself joking around with a good friend of mine who had experienced similar struggles with anxiety in the past. This joking around was done on Facebook. (And so comes another Facebook-anecdote from the fabled days of yore.)
Eventually, we got around to the terrible anxiety experienced when buying toilet paper. Stupid as fuck, of course, but that is anxiety for you – completely irrational and absolutely absurd. And, as expected, hilarious in hindsight. If you, as a grown man, can not laugh at yourself for experiencing anxiety when buying toilet paper, you have lost all humour and might as well dig a hole in the bottom of your bed, from which to never re-emerge.
Well, who should pop up from the ferns and grasses of the luscious lands of Facebook, but a wild feminist? Now, clearly, seeing two guys talking in a joking manner about some irrational yet severe discomfort they had experienced… experiencing two guys talking lightly about having experienced tough times due to pathological anxiety was too much for her delicate sensibilities to handle!
Here, one assumes that she thought, were two guys who had forgotten what is important in life. In fact: they had forgotten who it is that really struggles, and so they need a gentle reminder.
“Try buying sanitary napkins, boys.”, she wrote. For women are the only ones who need to buy sanitary napkins, and so that trumps buying toilet paper. One presumes, obviously, that toilet paper is bought and used by both sexes.
Take that, patriarchy.
Women-worsting 101, and oh the humanity, oh the insanity, oh the double-edged dildo of narcissistic vapidity!
To this I replied that I had often, and with absolutely no anxiety whatsoever, bought sanitary napkins (and chocolate) for my wife when need arose. Which is the truth. Particularly the chocolate-thing. There is one thing – and only one thing – to do when your significant other is on her period, and that is to retreat into a safe corner and throw chocolate at her until better times come around! Granted, I put that thing about buying chocolate in there to rile the feminist in question up a bit. But I was civil about it.
The wild feminist replied with “Maybe it will be easier if you pretend that you are buying her toilet paper”. This reply made absolutely no sense, given the context of anything. I had just stated that I had no issues with buying sanitary napkins. Or toilet paper. Not any more. I understood not a damned thing about that sentence, and I said as much. What in the hell was there to pretend?
I never got a clear reply to that.
Though, it transpired that she had never had any problems with buying sanitary napkins either. So, then, what was the bloody point of the exercise, except to come swooping in and state that women have it worse than us guys, despite her not experiencing any difficulties with buying sanitary napkins and us experiencing anxiety when buying bloody toilet paper?
Men can not experience any problems whatsoever – however stupid those damned problems may very well be – without being reminded by feral foaming-at-the-mouth feminists that women experience worse problems, so men should just shut up until women get over their collective neurosis. Which they will never do as long as they can use it as a bloody bludgeoning tool.
In fact, I am very surprised that she did not infer that I might be gay, since I was anxious about buying toilet paper yet had no problems buying sanitary napkins… Because why not? One must, after all, always question a person’s sexual preferences without any real reason. And these social justice warrior types… these feminist types… they trade in stereotypes all the bloody time, despite claiming to oppose stereotypes.
It is such a strange self-contradiction on their part that there is no wonder they do not see it. After all; they keep telling people to check their privilege, seeing nothing of their own. Or their own hubris and absolutely god-awful crap-shit-fuck behaviour, for that matter.
But, ah well, the internet does bring out the worst in people. And so too does the cult of woke, the church of social justice and all the various -isms and isn’ts and aint’s that flow from its drooling mouth. (Of interest: I also got flak for posting a picture of myself with a beer and the caption “cheers guys!” I did not include girls, and so this was a trespass most foul. Herpidityderpidoo, they have precious little to worry about when they feel entitled to police what people say.)
There is precious little that is as terrifying, as gut-wrenchingly nauseating, as someone who considers themselves to be morally superior to everyone around them. These people use their so-called moral superiority as a supreme stick of justice, beating people with it until they either submit or the guardian of supreme morality labels them a racist fascist misogynistic white supremacist Russian bot and blocks them.
Or, as is the case when any one of the Twats on Twitter who have bowed their neck and pledged allegiance to the holy spectre of feminism confront a –ghasp – female MRA, they will misgender them (despite the church of woke considering misgendering as hate-crime most foul).
For, ya know, women can not possibly think about anyone but women. If they do, they are gender traitors and, as such, not to be trusted. It is absolutely impossible for a woman to actually care about men, according to these venomous intellectual vagabonds. These twitter-twats will always question a person’s gender, just in case it’s really a man. Or, well, that is to say: they will always assume it is a man. For men can be dismissed easily and shamed into obedience and compliance, whereas women can not.
Women are not to be touched.
Men, on the other hand, are dehumanized in no small way through the wondrous whimsy of the frail and frantic feminist few, alongside the social justice warrior hive-mind and all their hastily assembled damaged-goods-from-IKEA identity politics nincompoops. This is made evident by taking a quick peek at just about every media there is, be that news media, social media, mass-media mediocrity and so forth and so on. Never has it been more trendy to hate on guys for nothing but being guys. Nor has it ever been so commonplace as to be completely and utterly invisible to those who have not had their eyes and minds forced open by the grim spectre of self-annihilating reality.
Reality is as reality is, but reality can be bent and twisted and turned on its head by rabid ideologues and religious nutcases with more opined convictions than rationality… just package the message in neat language with pretty bows of select statistics; the finely tuned instruments of id-pol and the hive-mind both, and you are on easy street.
Then you will be allowed to sit back and watch as reality burns in front of your eyes… As those who claim to despise and hate stereotypes and stereotyping, who lecture others about their wickedness, their unconscious bias, their conformity-phobia do nothing but spout stupid stereotypes, engage in severely biased and bigoted behaviour, and fear everything and everyone who goes against their grain and mass-media induced psychosis.
In the reality as seen through the eyes of rabid ideologues, women can not possibly oppose feminism. Nor can women oppose social justice, seeing as women are sugar and spice and everything nice. For social justice in all its forms is naught but sugar and spice and everything nice. Despite being tyranny disguised as liberty.
And so, any woman who oppose, any “marginalized” group who oppose the double-stink group-think of the social justice/feminist swarm must be a white straight guy in disguise. And there is nothing more heinous, more depraved, more dangerous, more privileged and entitled than a straight white guy.
On the internet, all girls are men and all kids are undercover FBI agents. This seems to be their line of thinking, made evident by their high-strung joy whenever they commit the horribly trans-phobic hate-crime of misgendering a female MRA or just a woman who oppose the social justice warrior hive-mind. No living by their own rules for these people, of course. Rules of censorship, conduct and behaviour only ever apply to the bad people. And they are not bad people. Even when doing the exact same thing they say that others should not do. Herp goes the derp.
Truly, there are no girls on the internet. Except those who subscribe to the one true faith. They are not to be questioned. They should be allowed to shit all over the carpet with no repercussions.
Well, excepting those-who-shall-not-be-questioned and the THOTS, who appear to have been able to turn Tits or GTFO into a valid and lucrative career-option, there are no girls on the internet.
Mind you: I’m not judging. To each their own. The choice is theirs, after all. I don’t much care how people make their money on the internet.
However: one can not flash exorbitant amounts of flesh and skin in one beat of the lions mane, then turn around and complain about sexual objectification of women online in the flap of a lions cock.
That would be hypocritical at worst and completely and utterly stupid at best. Sexual “objectification” of women will only stop when women stop objectifying themselves sexually for fun and profit. Which I sincerely doubt will ever happen, as long as there are thirsty dudes out there willing to pay ridiculous amounts of money for the slight chance of seeing a nipple. Or even cleavage.
Jesus naked monkey-ball wanking on a chain-link fence – guys would do well to heighten their standards a bit, if I am to be perfectly honest. Seeing a pair of tits on cam ain’t worth the bother or the money, brother.
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- Moiret Allegiere, 22.02.2020
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