Truth in the age of Deceit:

We live in times of universal deceit. We can not tell the truth. Bit by bit, truth is being eroded beneath our feet, as is our ability to speak it. Speaking the truth is an act of insubordination, an act of revolution. The truth is becoming a fragment of the past, a remnant of times that were, that came and went and blew away.

The doors are shut for facts and for balanced discussion of said facts. Truth means nothing lest it comes from the gut-instinct, lest it stems from the high-strung emotional turmoil that shriek and punch the air with tremors that state “I feel like this, and so it must be truth”.

And don’t you dare question my truth, my lived experience as anything but complete and utter fact that everyone of my tribe experience and have experienced and will keep experiencing seven thousand times or more.

And don’t you dare share your truth, your lived experience as fact if it contradicts my lived experience and my truth felt in the cornucopia of emotion in my safe-space sheltered heart.

And don’t you dare provide evidence, the concrete fact, the truth-and-beauty of absolute beauty in truth that speaks truth to power and tumbles the tyrants down from their thrones.

For tyranny flows from the top to the bottom, it flows from the tremors and the trembles and the fake-and-fancy inner turmoil shared by those who have had it far too good for far too long, whose tongue-twisting nursery rhymes are still sung and whispered at their bedside by overbearing parents who have told them all their lives that they can never do anything but good, that they can never do anything wrong. That, no matter what they do, they are in the right and the entire rest of the world is wrong and must burn if it disagrees. If lacking parents, substitute hired government goons.

This frantic world of ours allowed the throne to be usurped by warmongers that peddle propaganda; whose tongues and teeth are brown and stained with coagulated blood drained from the throats of subdivided willing victims of a war that stem from trying to please everyone. That is; pleasing everyone who is considered by those who wield the power of deceit to be underprivileged and oppressed in true Marxist fashion. Carried on and carried forward by champagne socialists who do not know the difference between a shovel and a pickaxe, who never saw their cheap-rent apartments disappear and turn to dust from new governmental regulations that deemed them unfit to live in, yet whose silver-tongues that claimed to do good for those that could not be choosers never did think that this would limit the availability of apartments and never did anything to alleviate this, rendering the market ever worse for those that have always been forced to settle.

There is no mistaking it. This is a war. A war that is the result of a cuntural cultural revolution that has been going on beneath our feet for fifty years or more; that has been fought in classrooms with cheap hits dealt from subversive pedagogues whose dimwitted godly light and siren-song shone and sung its way into the minds and developing personality of impressionable children who caught the words and let them fester and spread within their own nuclear brain cavity. More pawns, more peons and peasants handcrafted in indoctrination-chambers to hunt the Kulaks.

To manufacture dissent. Manufacture chaos. To spread disillusion and disharmony to the hungry masses, presenting feels as reals and wiping away any remnant of objective reality to bring forth the new-found reality, the subjective reality where every instance of emotional turmoil on behalf of one and not the other is an issue that has to be dealt with, that has to be overcome by governmental over-reach to limit what we should say and can say and how to say it, to bring forth the hate-speech laws and make them so convoluted, so confusing that everything and nothing at all may be considered hate-speech on the whim and will of whomsoever feel offended by the voice and uttered utterance of those who are considered privileged by the privileged powers-that-be that dominate the discourse, never allowing dissenting voices to be heard. And that is dissenting voices not being allowed under pain of governmental punishment, under the majestic banner of the stately ban-hammer fantastic; the tyranny of governed speech deciding what speech is the correct speech, what opinions are the correct opinions, which -ism is the only -ism one should be allowed to follow in the gloomy grim funeral rite of our liberty.

We are being ruled, governed and drugged by television and media-conglomerates that spin their so-called truths in new-speak news that starve our brains of oxygen until we are close to passing out; that blast us with new information every five seconds so that we can not process the information properly, or never read beyond the click-bait headlines calling for our permanent offence and anger at the unjust nature of the beastly world we live in. That just so happen to only be unjust for the one and not the other, in the eyes of new-speak news and their cohorts that manufacture the perpetual war. Because war is peace. Freedom is slavery. And so forth. And so on.

It will keep us distracted, wilfully sheltered from what is going on behind the canvas and the cloth of looming tyranny that aims at uniformity of speech, of voice and of opinion. We are being ruled by fear and governed by terror to make us accept limitations imposed on our speech and our expression. To label it hate-speech laws is blatantly obvious manipulation of language, telling all that do not think beyond the headlines that any who oppose this set of rules is guilty of hating something or other, and are as such not a decent person, not a good person, not a proper person but someone improper, someone to be shunned and punished for daring to defy the whatever and what-not. Anyone who hates anything is not a good person. Excepting those who hate the ones who supposedly are the haters. They are good people. When they hate what the sheltered stately state have decided is OK to hate.

For a governmental body to decide what is or is not accepted speech is tyranny clothed as compassion. It is a government telling us, in so many words, that this and only this is accepted opinion. And any-and-all that disagree hate the oppressed and are, as such, an oppressor, a bigot, a beastly bastard for whom violence is but a censored Tweet away. And so, they deserve anything that may come their way and the government will not only look the other way, but take part in the punishment. The Kulaks must be dealt with.

And this by any means.

And that is the truth.

For that is the nature of deceit.

  • Please like, share and subscribe
  • Moiret Allegiere, 14.09.2019

My book – Howling at a Slutwalk Moon, a collection of previous blog posts:
Vol 1 Paperback: https://www.amazon.com/dp/107571074X
Vol 1 Kindle: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07TZTPDPR
Vol 2 Paperback: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1075714184
Vol 2 Kindle: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07TZR25NL
Vol 1 Illustrated Paperback: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1075717094
Vol 2 Illustrated Paperback: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1075723078

Other links:
Redbubble shop: https://www.redbubble.com/people/Moiret/shop
Blog: https://moiretallegiere.wordpress.com/
YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC3IaCxAXE3pQd7PCdvHoaaA
Bitchute: https://www.bitchute.com/channel/EvbGZyTZSraY/
twatter: https://twitter.com/MAllegiere
Gab: https://gab.com/Moiret_Allegiere
Minds: https://www.minds.com/Moiret
Flickr: https://www.flickr.com/people/152465815@N04/

Advertisements

Lord, help me, I can’t change! (More feminist encounters in the wild:)

Feminism does not have rebuttals.

Nor does it have arguments.

Not as such.

Feminism is an entity existing, living, thriving on nothing but its own hubris, on nothing but its own sense of entitlement. Strip away the hubris, mine away the decades of indoctrination and brainwashing into the serpent cult, and you are left with hollow phrases and learned tactics that is downloaded straight into the melted-machine minds of its adherents from the great feminist server in the nether realms of chaos and hysteria.

Yes.

I have been watching feminist filth-merchants in debate on Twitter yet again. For some reason, I can not claw my way out of that grand spectacle. I can not tear my eyes away from the train-wreck. Though I do not wish to partake – heavens no – I have too little sanity left to lose to do that. And arguing with a feminist brings about as much joy and reduces ones intelligence just as much as banging ones head against the shrapnel from a hand-grenade that never stops exploding.

Yet I keep reading or watching the debates stunned and perplexed, almost transfixed, ensnared by the closed minds on display. You can always tell who has a closed mind by the insistence of those that are close-minded that they are open-minded. A peculiar paradox, I know, but these are people for whom the only thought in their minds is the one that says that women are oppressed and that feminism is the path to take to fight the establishment and the consecrated conservative routines of the close-minded. Even when the intravenous injection of feminism that replaces their mental processing powers also closes their minds to viewpoints that are not infected with the ovary-shrivelling, dick-shrinking, brain-fluid-evaporating virus of feminism.

Of course; I can not fault them entirely. For feminism, this peculiar -ism, is the only -ism that has been allowed to be taught as fact in schools. At the very least for all my life. It has been allowed to be handed down like hand-outs from the hand-me-out squad to young kids, the dominant -ism and the one and only guiding light in the world. For decades. And it is so strange and it is so weird and so soul-suckingly insane that an -ism, any -ism, should be taught as fact to small children. We would not accept this were it any other -ism. We would not accept it were it communism, would not accept it were it socialism, would not accept it were it capitalism, fascism, Nazism, existentialism, nihilism, Buddhism, racism, etc. etc. In fact, we would label it political/religious/whatever indoctrination and demand it to stop. Also, we seem to accept it when it is intersectionalism as well, for some strange and peculiar reason. No-one should stand for this.

Yet, with this toxic, nausea-inducing sludge, we not only accept but we celebrate. And any and all manner of critique, any and all manner of rebuttal or protest or evidence to the contrary that is bright as the surface of the god-damned sun are met with the most vile and horrifying behaviour one could imagine. Which we would not accept from any other member of these gone-past-their-sell-by-date-societies of ours. And rightly so. Because the behaviour on display from these venomous harpies is not behaviour that should be condoned and celebrated. Yet, that is par for the course, part and parcel of living in the fantastic feminist utopia of ours, where women are so oppressed – and feminism so prosecuted – that they can behave like a vile, horrid, treacherous nest of absolute fucking cunts, and do so with impunity, with celebrations, with thunderous applause from the gawking on-lookers that drool and dribble on their shoes for lack of brain-fluid after it has evaporated on account of the feminist heat.

Welcome, my friends, to the machine.

Feminism gives women leeway to release the feminine shadow; the dark side of womanhood with impunity. With no shame nor regret. It allows for the worst kind of behaviour one could imagine; anti-social displays of crudeness, vulgarity and supposed “put-downs” that should not be accepted in any civilized society is accepted the moment it comes from the herpes-infected lips of a feminist do-gooder fighting the good fight against the established establishment that is the patriarchal kyriarchy, the grand and phenomenal godhead of oppression and terror and tyranny that, for some strange reason, allows and celebrates this behaviour from their oh-so-oppressed subjects.

Welcome, my friends, to the machine.

The lack of arguments when faced with facts that are undeniable are stunning. When arguments are attempted, it amounts to nothing more than mental gymnastics designed, in some way or other, to blame men for whatever it is. Even if it is something feminism has implemented, fought tooth and nails with all the ovary-acting they could muster to keep, it is blamed on men. One example of this is custody of children post-divorce. Giant feminist organizations have fought tooth and nail to keep the mother as the primary caregiver. Successfully so, I should add. Yet, when this is brought up as a god-damned affront to fathers – which it is – it is blamed on the patriarchy for assuming mothers to be the best caregivers and motherhood being the only role a woman should aspire to.

What a strange fucking world these people live in.

Such a weird world is this brave blue world. There is no logic, no reason, no ability to see facts, truth and so-and-such for what they are. There is nothing but the immediate emotional upheaval presented as fact because that is what she feels in the moment, in the heat of the moment. And if that is how she feels, then that is fact without a doubt. And there is the problem of it – emotions are subject to change at a moments notice.

This goes for both men and women, of course.

It is not something one should wish to build ones understanding of the world around. Emotions are fickle things. They change all the bloody time. And any understanding of the world that changes all the bloody time can not be an understanding of the world that brings any form of calm or tranquillity or satisfaction. It is all well and good, I suppose, to experience the world as a beautiful place if one is in a good mood. It is not as good to experience the world as a terrible place if one is in a bad mood. Emotional states no doubt paints ones perspective of the world. This is a very human thing, I suppose, neurotic wrecks that we are. But there is no baseline there, no tightrope to walk, no path to follow that will not dwindle and fade away. Better, then, to consider the world as a completely neutral and uncaring thing of nature; an indifferent beast that could not give a single two-handed fuck about ones emotional state at the moment. Nothing changes in the world depending on ones mood. Only ones perception, ones understanding of the world. Being able to transcend that and view the world as the aforementioned uncaring and indifferent beast, no matter ones current emotional state, gives a baseline, a balance, a slap to the face that, at the very least, anchors one to reality instead of the insane realms of subjective fantasy that is the roller-coaster of emotion.

The machine will keep going.

That is the crux of the issue, the pinnacle of madness. For when the machine has started, it is nigh impossible to stop it. And the machine began to spin its wheels a hundred years ago, or more. So that now, driven by the – faulty – understanding that women are somehow oppressed, driven by the gynocentrism in our species; the reptile brain that tell us that we must protect and cater to women above all else, lest the species die out, lest our genes are not spread, lest our seed shall fall to the earth and rise like steam to the heavens above as some perverted sacrifice to the Godhead itself from the wretched hairy palms of the hump-backed, cross-eyed midget Onan, we accept anything from the mouths of women and those who claim to fight the cause of women. For women must be protected, and if we do not protect women with our all, we must hate women with all our shrivelled soul and micro-dicks. (Not to mention that the only reason for opposing feminism – according to its adherents – is a lack of sexual access to women, telling us more than we need to know about feminism and how it views women as sexual receptacles, as well as their view of men and male/female sexual dynamics. That is: sex is something men does to women, something women give to men.)

Micro-dick is one of those trite, yet tried and true, go-to insults of the feminist hive-mind scorned. For one who has no arguments or rebuttals, shame is the apex of put-downs. And shaming men for their lack of sexual prowess or lack of ability to satisfy a woman sexually is the greatest put-down there is, in the hive-mind.

Odd, I think, that any man who supposedly hates women as much as the feminists would have us believe of any who oppose their bass ackwards view of the world should feel any semblance of shame for not being able to satisfy a woman. One should believe there would be no shame in this from someone who supposedly hates women. Because someone who hates and abhors women would, one assumes, not give two fucks about her satisfaction.

Cock-a-doodle-doo.

Of course – men not giving a fuck about female sexual satisfaction is another feminist piss-pot argument dragged up from the depths of their inability to tell a man what they enjoy in bed, or, for that matter, take some responsibility for her own satisfaction as well as his satisfaction where sexual matters are concerned. If one does not tell ones partner what one enjoys, one should not then be surprised that ones partner does not know. Cock-a-doodle-doo.

Welcome, my friend, to the machine.

Given my chosen subject matter in this radical ramble, driven by rage, wrath, ruin and enough caffeine to kill a moderately sized pony, there is a definite need to mention this as well: feminism does not equal women. Despite what the feminist hive-mind want to believe. Or what they want us to believe. A searing, brimstone-and-fire, hell and damnation, full frontal assault on feminism is not an assault on women. Or on women’s rights. It is an attack on an -ism that proposes to not only speak on behalf of all women – even the women who do not agree with it – but that also proposes to speak on behalf of gender equality, that demands a monopoly on the mere concept of equality. A more tyrannical, totalitarian and horrifying notion than that is hard to come by. Any voice who demands a monopoly on a concept, that demands to be the only one to speak on a certain topic, whatever that topic may be, is a voice that should be shunned and ignored. For anyone who claims to have all the answers to all the riddles can not be believed, must not be trusted, must be fought with all the madness of a wild beast cornered with nothing to lose. Such fell, authoritarian beasts are not to be trusted with anything, let alone power.

Feminism have come to equal women to the close-minded open-minded squad. Any woman who does not fall in line with the secular religion of feminism, with all their squalid brainwashing and indoctrination, is an affront to feminism and the divinity of the sisterhood, she is a result of patriarchal brainwashing making her internalize her misogyny. Because, to the eyes of feminism, women are so weak-willed and frail that they are absolutely incapable of thinking for themselves and making their own choices.

If she does not bend the knee to feminism and allow feminism to think for her, she is bending the knee to the patriarchy and allowing the patriarchy to think for her. It is either-or, where women are concerned, in the brain-washed melting minds of feminism. A woman exists either for feminism or for the patriarchy, never for herself. And this squad of permanently offended religious nutcases claim that our side hates women!

It is so agonizingly weird. I don’t think I have ever met anyone that has so much disdain, so much antagonism, so much raw hatred for women than a feminist meeting a woman that does not fall in line with the orthodoxy of feminism. It is an ideology built on hate for anyone who is on the outside. A misanthropic force claiming to work for equality. It makes me sick to my core that this wretched hive of scum and villainy have been allowed by our societies to be the dominant voice on all things gender, on all things sex, on all things equality.

The most radical voices of our societies today are the voices that dare defy the norm to state the simple truth, such as it is, that we are not the same, we are not equal.

Not as such.

We have different strengths and different weaknesses, we have different brains and different bodies to go along with these brains.

We are not the same.

We are not equal.

We are of equal worth, without a doubt.

And we are of equal value. Without a doubt.

But we are not the same.

See, I come from the egalitarian point of view. An individualistic point of view. A point of view that treats people based on the content of their character, based on the way they treat me and the way they treat other people. Sex does not factor into it. In particular now, post red pill blues.

This is something feminism does not like. Nor do they celebrate it. For feminism fights for women to be treated far better in society than men are treated. Based on how they imagine men are treated. Not based on how men are, in fact, treated.

And so to do trad-cons, for that matter. Though, the reasons may appear to be different at first glance, they are not. It stems from the same tide, the same rush, the same brainwave: women are the ones who carry children.

At the end of the day, we are animals. And the ones who carry the children are, biologically speaking, of more value. They must be protected. And they must be pampered and taken care of. Lest the tribe die, lest the species die, lest all fails and we do not survive.

The quest for equality which the feminist hive-mind has led us on is one of misguided equality. It is a quest for equality of outcome which is impossible, given that we are not the same. It is impossible without grand-scale social engineering. Which we are witnessing through affirmative action, through gender quotas, through lowering the standards to include more women. As we can see in the recent hissy-fit-inducing flurry of articles that state that lowering the standards of entry for women is a hand-up, not a hand-out. Hah, bah, nah, humbug.

We float and fly towards different things, based on our different strengths and weaknesses. Our choices are a product of our biology more than they are a product of some horrible scheme by the governing patriarchy that loves men so much and hates women so much that it sees no qualms in putting men in harms way and keeping women out of harms way. Were we truly living in societies that hate women, one should assume that all the dangerous and dirty jobs would be done by women that are not yet ready for childbirth, or who can no longer carry children. That would be hatred of women. One would assume that men be given all the cushy jobs. One would assume that more women than men would be homeless. One would assume the suicide rates to be quite different. And on. And on. Our societies do not hate women. Our societies protect women, and the frantic forces of feminist fragility are well aware of this. They play on this, tugging at our heartstrings through emotional manipulation and pure shaming until we do as they wish.

“You do not hate women, do you?”, she asks as she pouts her lips and widens her eyes… as she bulges what bulges there are… And any man tremble and go weak at the knees and at the groin at the sight of her awesome neoteny, at the seductive whisper of her alluring voice and her wide hips that subtly promise possible procreation in the not-too-distant-future…

The best way to choke the forces of feminism is to treat women exactly the same as we treat men. Neither better, nor worse. Exactly the same. Complete and utter equal treatment. When that is done, the forces shout and rear and whinny that men treat women so much worse than they treat men. Evidenced in this study: https://uwspace.uwaterloo.ca/bitstream/handle/10012/6958/Yeung_Amy.pdf .

Well, maybe not the best way to choke the forces of feminism. Rather, it would be the best way to show the beast of feminism for what it is; a movement seeking nothing but female privilege; to hoist women up to stand on the shoulders of men until the shoulders break out of their sockets, only for the feminist hordes to scream for more, more, more.

Just as we have done, time and time again, in different guises and different clothes and wearing different masques. The song remains the same, the band stays the same, the tribe will still be just as the tribe was. Only the names and the seasons change.

Nothing more.

And nothing less.

  • Please like, share and subscribe
  • Moiret Allegiere, 11.09.2019

My book – Howling at a Slutwalk Moon, a collection of previous blog posts:
Vol 1 Paperback: https://www.amazon.com/dp/107571074X
Vol 1 Kindle: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07TZTPDPR
Vol 2 Paperback: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1075714184
Vol 2 Kindle: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07TZR25NL
Vol 1 Illustrated Paperback: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1075717094
Vol 2 Illustrated Paperback: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1075723078

Other links:
Redbubble shop: https://www.redbubble.com/people/Moiret/shop
Blog: https://moiretallegiere.wordpress.com/
YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC3IaCxAXE3pQd7PCdvHoaaA
Bitchute: https://www.bitchute.com/channel/EvbGZyTZSraY/
twatter: https://twitter.com/MAllegiere
Gab: https://gab.com/Moiret_Allegiere
Minds: https://www.minds.com/Moiret
Flickr: https://www.flickr.com/people/152465815@N04/

Lies and Slander in the Domestic Violence Industrial Complex:

Healing lowres

Illustration: «Healing», Moiret Allegeire, 2019

Stumbling through the dark corners of the internet one fell morning, attempting to do research on the subject of domestic violence interspersed now and then with one of my dogs barking at some odd happening outside every two minutes, I crawled through the muddiest sludge of the world wide wonder-web to exhume this piece of preposterous writing: https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=2790940 .

Within this piece of writing, aptly titled: The Feminist Case for Acknowledging Women’s Acts of Violence, we find clear and concise evidence in the form of them admitting it that the feminist movement, or the women’s movement or whatever label one wishes to ascribe to it, built the domestic violence movement upon lies at worst and blatant misrepresentations at best. Of course, this being a feminist movement it goes without saying that the entirety of their hogwashed bullshittery is based upon either outright lies or snivelling misrepresentations of clear facts presented with the most serpentine of forked tongues, quivering lips and trembling forms, saying in a childlike voice designed to mimic the most awesome form of Neoteny: Please, I am such a frail and powerless woman – help me, big strong man whose strength and protection I don’t need but will manipulate at want when I need it. Even if I don’t need it, really.

I am not going to divulge the information within this incredibly illuminating piece of writing in great depth or detail in this particular ramble. I think this fantastic piece deserves a ramble all on its own, to go through it in such depths as I am capable of, being neither an academic nor a scholar. Now, being an academic clearly doesn’t mean much in this terrible post-apocalyptic haze of the current year. This should be self-evident by the sluggish beasts residing within the overcrowded halls of academia. So: rather than delving into this paper in depth here and now, I will take a look at a few proper studies on intimate partner violence and see how the data contained therein correspond to this amazing evidence of feminist skewed statistics and lies most worthy of the immense judgement and subsequent thunder of our grand societal ban-hammer.

Because this piece of writing, gentlemen and ladies, is of such incredible importance to understand the way our ramshackle societies view instances of intimate partner violence through the black and white, tried, true and incredibly faulty lens of male perpetrators and female victims that I can hardly contain my glee in stumbling across it. Even if I read it with a certain anger boiling in my throat, gut and groin. In the pages of this tome of inadvisedly applied “knowledge”, it becomes painfully clear that the feminist movement combined with the domestic violence movement cares not in the least for the victims of domestic violence, be they male or female. It becomes evident – by the constant reference to the “movement” – that it is the feminist movement that matters, the women’s movement. Not facts, not truth, not reason and not the individual victims of intimate partner violence. The movement above all.

The serpent cult is alive and well.

…And only the cult matter in the grand scheme and schism of things.

It should have been common knowledge from the 1970’s at least that intimate partner violence is not a gendered issue. Once again, I would like to refer to the work of that fabulous Loving Grandmother to Us All, Erin Pizzey and her tremendous work in regards to family violence. I recommend – once again – that everyone read her story, listen to her speeches and marvel at the treatment she received at the hands of irate feminists who had an agenda to push that was driven not by any concerns for victims of domestic violence, but by a concern for their own movement, their own dogma and their own hydra-headed serpent god of false tongues and venomous fangs. She concluded, already back then, that intimate partner violence was reciprocal in most cases, built on escalation and a pattern of abuse that was generational from both sides of the dysfunctional family.

She quickly learned that the women in her shelters were just as, if not more, violent than the men from whom they fled. And so saw fit to build a shelter for abused men as well, for which she was disowned by her feminist cohorts, harassed and harangued and bullied until she had to flee the country.

Obviously, this is a condensed version of the story.

All this came to be merely because she wished to actually help those who suffered instead of pushing an agenda that was as blatantly false as it was completely monochrome in its approach to the problem.

Women are angels and saints and men are the devils lurking at the outskirts of our civilization, ready, at a moments notice, to wreak bloody havoc on all that we hold dear. That is to say: on all that women hold dear. For, should we believe the feminist dogma, men can not hold anything dear but terror, tyranny, violence, beer and rape. Preferably at the same time.

Now, closing in on fifty years later, researchers are attempting to view the problem of intimate partner violence through new and fresh lenses. Gazing at it, as it were, from a vantage point not driven by ideology and subjective opinion, but on facts and objective observations.

Imagine now, if the powers that be had listened to Erin Pizzey when she first began speaking truthfully and honestly on certain matters having to do with dysfunctional family matters. Should-haves, would-haves and could-haves are not great tools for intellectual quests, I will have to agree. And resentment and bitterness helps little in furthering anything. But this fraud and sham of a movement has done such tremendous damage where intimate partner violence is concerned that I can not help it. This new research is not anything new. Not as such. And that angers my blood and boils my brain, slowly reducing it to snark and frustration, anger and resentment.

Think of what could have been done to help both male and female victims, as well as their children. Imagine how much work could have been laid down to stop the generational cycle of abuse – to break the vicious circle of replaying past traumas in ones own family of origin.

Instead, the domestic violence movement saw fit to ensnare society within its tangled web of feminist patriarchy-theory and gibbering nonsense, painting men as the perpetrators and axe-wielding maniacs of immense power and violence. That it was the subjugation of women at the hands of both men and the state that caused intimate partner violence, and that it was men and only men who were violent both within and without the family, given the authority to do so by the nebulous and never-seen forces of the tyrannical patriarchy, the reptilian illuminati-annunaki of the feminist tin-foil-hat wearing swashbucklers of truth and glory filtered through mass-hysteria and quaint quantities of hysterical ovary-acting worthy of a hysterectomy or two.

Driven now by a longing for facts and for the feminist nonsense-mongers to remove their stranglehold on the discourse where intimate partner violence is concerned, we – as a society – need to wipe our faultily prescribed myopic lenses and put actual prescription glasses in place to view these dysfunctional family matters in an objective light, not tainted by ideologues who care for the movement and the goals of the movement, replacing the needs of the actual victims and sufferers in the process.

And so, new research floats to the top of the stagnant pool that has been the discourse for decades. From the septic tank of feminist-infused fuckery that has dominated the discourse, rises a noxious gas that may now be lit aflame and blow the whole thing up where the way we view family violence is concerned.

For: what should matter – what should always have mattered – is lending help to the individual victims first and foremost, disregarding the gendered view that feminism has put in place. Which they so clearly admit to have put in place. Secondly, the root cause of family violence should be understood so that the cycle of abuse may be broken. In order to understand it, one has to admit to and understand what both Warren Farrel and Erin Pizzey have been saying for decades; that damaged people damage people, and gender be damned. Gender should not factor into it. Especially not in these societies which we inhabit in which the claim is that gender never matters. Except when it does, of course. And when it does, it is always when it may in some way, shape or form supposedly help women. It is tempting to say that the root causes should be the first thing that matters. But that would then be done without lending help to individual victims in their immediate need. By lending help to the individual first and foremost, the root cause may be discovered and removed as one would remove a tumour.

It becomes glaringly obvious that their “containment” as they put it in the first paper linked, of female offenders and male victims has done a great disservice, not only to the men who have fallen victim to intimate partner violence, but to any-and-all attempt to grab the serpent by its tail and so refuse it to become the Ourobouros, perpetuating its cycle of abuse through generations of families uncounted. By pushing to remove female offenders, they have willingly allowed the snake to go uncaught. They have driven wedges ever further into the fabrics of our societies, into the trust and co-operation between men and women and sat fire to the entirety of the family dynamic. By their own admittance, they have neglected to catch the serpent, they have willingly destroyed the nuclear family and given birth to an industrial complex known vaguely as the domestic violence movement in which male victims – as we shall see soon enough – are not believed, are shunned, ridiculed, often arrested in place of their abuser and removed from their own home. For being beat and abused by their spouse.

All in the name of “equality”; that fantastic term that means everything and nothing all at once, depending upon the view of the feminist at the moment, depending on the position of the moon, depending on whether or not Uranus is aligned with the swinging cock of Mars to be sodomized at a moments notice and so forth and so on.

In the feminist dictionary, words do not mean what you think they mean. They change and they alter and they evolve all the time within the framework of their ideology, as whimsical and fluctuating as anything ever could be. And so, the joke lies there and I must use it: “At the flimsy will and whim of a woman”.

Thank you.

I’ll be here all week.

These are the jokes, people!

***

Looking on another study now, and of course I need to put in an addendum here – I am always a bit careful when looking at studies like this, given that I am not an academic and as such not all that versed in traversing these kinds of studies – this study is titled Differences in Frequency of Violence and Reported Injury Between Relationships With Reciprocal and Nonreciprocal Intimate Partner Violence. https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC1854883/ .

In this study, they analysed data on young adults aged 18-28 years in the US. The results showed that almost 24% of all relationships they looked at had some violence. Just about half of these were cases of reciprocal violence. In cases were the violence was not reciprocal women were the perpetrators in more than 70% of the cases. That is quite a lot, if I am to be honest. More than the feminist hive-mind and various do-goodie virtue-signallers would ever admit to. This does not matter to these people, though, as they will hold forth as arguments that this does not matter due to the fact that male perpetrators are more likely to inflict injury than are female perpetrators. If I understood the study properly, however, instances of reciprocal violence was more likely to result in actual injury than were instances of non-reciprocal violence.

This was found to be regardless of the gender of the perpetrator. I found this to be very interesting when taking into consideration that the study also tell us that “Reciprocity was associated with more frequent violence among women”. From my understanding of this quote, women were the instigators more often than men in cases of reciprocal violence. Thus leading the men therein to reply in kind. Given the greater muscle-mass and bone density of men in general, and the lesser muscle-mass and bone density of women in general, I do not find it all that surprising that women suffer injuries more in cases of reciprocal violence. It would, perhaps, be a good idea to not attempt to beat someone bigger and stronger than oneself.

Understanding that boys and men have been told since time immemorial that they should never – ever – hit a girl or a woman, no matter the circumstances, it is little wonder that the sympathies of society at large go to the woman in these scenarios, never-minding that she may very well have been the instigator. I think it would be prudent to also keep in mind the probability that people in these kinds of relationships where reciprocal violence occur are more than likely damaged people who keep replaying the same scenarios time and again, drawn to each other by a kind of mutual and subconscious desire for destruction and self-destruction, feeding into the generational cycle of abuse from ages past. Re-playing what they learned at the hands and feet of parents for all eternity. I can not imagine a worse doom than this.

The study also tell us that “the percentage of relationships in which there was reciprocal partner violence ranged from 45% to 72%”. Further evidence, then, that reciprocal violence in highly dysfunctional relationships and families is the norm more than it is not. Kinda ruins the pictures we have been painted and presented for ages now of the stereotypical wife-beating man; a drunkard and a brute with violence encoded in his DNA, allowed by both society and the patriarchy, weird deep-state shadow government that it is. A faulty image handcrafted by feminist ideologues whose interests and passions are to maintain this stereotype more than it is to solve the problem. Because solving the problem would mean that they would have to admit – as they have done in the first paper linked – that women are also violent, that men are also victims, and that violent relationships are more often than not a two-way street where there is no clear victim/perpetrator dynamic to be used in furthering an agenda.

And the agenda is also something they would then have to admit to; burying facts for sake of their ideological convenience and the advancement of the movement, the movement being, at the moment, in a state of siege as more and more people are questioning the societal narrative which we have been spoon-fed for decades; their toxin forced down our throats and injected into our veins from powerful institutions of education, mass-media and more.

This state of siege, I assume, is the main cause and reason for the first paper linked – the fear of loosing their stranglehold on the conversation, the debate and the topic forcing them to change tactics so as not to be shown as the bigoted and ideologically possessed and blinded serpents that they are.

There is this radical notion that has been with me, you see, part of my world-view for all my life, based as much on personal observations as it is on objective analysis, that both men and women are capable of tremendous good as well as tremendous bad. That is to say: women are just as capable as men. And men are just as capable as women. For good. And for evil. This goes in stark opposition to the dominant cultural narrative of our societal psychosis – that men are evil and women are good by default. An awfully traditional view of things, one would have to admit.

The study further states that “In fact, men in relationships with reciprocal violence were reportedly injured more often (25.2%) than were women in relationships with non-reciprocal violence (20%); this is important as violence perpetrated by women is often seen as not serious.”

Gee Whiz! I wonder why it is not seen as serious. Could it possibly be due to the massive influence from the feminist movement in regards to this, I wonder, I ponder, I think and I consider as I sip my coffee and listen to the soothing blast beats and throaty screeching of black metal of the foulest and meanest sort? Note also, that I take my coffee as black and soulless as my metal. It helps with the anger, releases the venom and soothes the mind something fierce. It also wires me up magnificently.

…Could this possibly also have something to do with the gynocentric nature of our species, wherein women are to be protected and as such are given excuses and quite a bit of leeway in regards to the abuse they may inflict upon their spouse and their children? It is a meme at this point, but I think it wise to repeat it here: women’s act of violence prompts us to discuss matters of mental health. And it prompts us to manufacture excuses. Such as that she was abused, either as a child by her father or by her spouse, which forced her to carry out her acts of abuse and violence. Men’s violence, on the other hand, prompts us to demonize all men, telling all men that they need to take responsibility for ending this, starting with looking at themselves in the mirror. It also sparks discussions on toxic masculinity and other such nonsense. When men are violent, it is because they are men. When women are violent, it is either because of men or because of mental health issues, urging us to feel sympathy for her and give her understanding.

What a beautiful shell of a world we inhabit. The post-apocalyptic wasteland is nothing like what I was lead to believe through the movies I grew up on.

Were I not cautiously optimistic, I would have turned into a raging misanthrope by this point in my life. Better to channel that rage not unto humanity as a whole, but onto ideologies that purposefully and cleverly have taken control of the discourse, have tied a noose around the necks of our societies and our civilization, have swarmed their way into our collective consciousness as the truth-speakers, the enlightened and empathetic ones seeking only to establish gender equality, despite proven to be filthy, rotten, tongue-tied-and-twisted liars time and again.

I think it wise to end this part of the ramble with another quote from the study in question, which makes it easy for me to segway into the next segment of my incessant rambling: “Regarding reporting biases, there has been much discussion of whether there are differences in reported IPV by the gender of the reporter. A meta-analysis of the reliability of the conflict tactics scale concluded that there is evidence of under-reporting by both genders, and that under-reporting may be greater for men.”

Small wonder, that, as men are not believed more often than not. Small wonder, that, when men are ridiculed by the forces supposedly put in place to help victims of domestic violence. Of course, in light of the glorious feminist revolution, victims of domestic violence automatically mean “women”. As such, close-to all resources available are merely there for female victims. This based on the false belief that only men are violent, only women are victims, for ever and ever, hail Dworkin, praise feminism, eternal glory be to the collective, amen.

The last study to gaze upon is also the one I think is of the most interest. It is titled “The Help-seeking Experiences of Men Who Sustain Intimate Partner Violence: An Overlooked Population and Implications for Practice” and can be found here: https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC3175099/ .

As one would assume, given the title of the study, it looks on the experiences of men when seeking help because of domestic violence. Unsurprising to any who have delved into the weird and wacky post-red-pill world, but probably surprising, bordering on unbelievable to any who have not, the study show that men experience barriers when calling domestic violence hotlines. It contains some very interesting quotes from men who have been foolish enough to attempt to seek help and understanding from the resources available. I will look mainly on their quotes, as the stories of men who suffer intimate partner violence are so often neglected and never told.

Also – I would like to make it clear that I do not use the word “foolish” lightly. Nor do I use it as a slur against the men who attempted to seek help from the resources available. I use it to define – to underline – the severity of the issue. I use the word “foolish” for the simple reason that, as the world and the web in which it is ensnared stand, it is a foolish and futile endeavour. This is due to the domestic violence industry being so tainted, so poisoned, by the might of the feminist industrial complex that one would be hard-pressed to find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy this side of the good part of Star Wars. As this quote from a man contacting a domestic violence agency would attest to:

They didn’t really listen to what I said. They assumed that all abusers are men and said that I must accept that I was the abuser. They ridiculed me for not leaving my wife, ignoring the issues about what I would need to do to protect my 6 children and care for them.

but it is not about hating, shaming or blaming men, you must understand. It is all to do with equal treatment of the genders, as the feminist furies would have you believe, with all their piss-pottery and slack-jawed yodelling. Because those who hate men are not real feminists, ya know. And they don’t like sugar on their porridge, either. Strange, then, that these feminists who are not the real feminists are the ones who have decided the rules and law of the land where the mistreatment of male victims of intimate partner violence are concerned. The not real feminists, apparently, are the ones in control of the movement, are the ones who control the discourse, change the laws, neglect male victims and their children and do nothing but further the narrative that women can do no bad and men can do no good. The real feminists, however, are the ones that do not do this, the ones who do not wield any power or influence within the movement which they subscribe to. The leaders of the movement are not real feminists. The ones who have laid the foundations for the movement and steered us all into these days of apocalyptic madness and rampant misandry enforced by law are not the real feminists.

And Hitlerism, you must understand, is not real national socialism. Real national socialism is something quite different. And on and on the circle goes. Where it ends, no-one knows. Nor where it begins.

I am given to understand that there exist no real feminists. Because this is the excuse whenever these hateful, bigoted purveyors of nonsense and neglect parade their hatred of all things male and masculine around town; that they are not real feminists. And when the leaders of a movement are not real adherents to a movement, it is safe to assume that there exist no real feminists, and that it is all a washbasin filled with toxic waste, vaginal sludge and phlegm.

It is fucking nasty, is what I am getting at.

Time and again, these excuses pop up. And people believe it, all the fucking time, people believe it. That the leaders of the movement – the movers and shakers of the law of the land – the ones implementing all manner of vile treatment of men and preferential treatment for women based on naught but sex – are but a vocal minority, a loud-mouthed gangrenous few who do nothing and accomplish nothing and are thusly of little consequence to the movement as a whole, despite the fact that these trademarked not real feminists are the ones responsible for male victims of intimate partner violence, as well as their children, not only not being believed, but not receiving help at the hands of the plentiful resources available to victims of intimate partner violence. Given that the real victims, ya know, are women and women only. But no – that is not real feminism. They just wield all the power and influence in the name of holy feminism and its wriggling, spineless serpent-goddess. And those who are supposedly real feminists do nothing to stop these so-called fake feminists. How very weird.

You know what?

I don’t often say this, but I will make an exception.

Fuck you!

Fuck you right in the ear and the nostrils with a barbwire-dildo laced with ferret-piss and honey, covered in angry ants!

This work shows that men often experience barriers when seeking help when calling domestic violence hotlines, for instance, men who sustained all types of IPV report that the hotline workers say that they only help women, infer or explicitly state that the men must be the actual instigators of the violence, or ridicule them. Male help-seekers also report that hotlines will sometimes refer them to batterers’ programs. Some men have reported that when they call the police during an incident in which their female partners are violent, the police sometimes fail to respond. Other men reported being ridiculed by the police or being incorrectly arrested as the primary aggressor. Within the judicial system, some men who sustained IPV reported experiencing gender-stereotyped treatment. Even with apparent corroborating evidence that their female partners were violent and that the help-seekers were not, they reportedly lost custody of their children, were blocked from seeing their children, and were falsely accused by their partners of IPV and abusing their children. According to some, the burden of proof for male IPV victims may be especially high.

Now, colour me prickly surprised and oddly titillated – could it really be? Well, yes, of course it could really be. The most infuriating bother of it all is that feminists will go out of their way to claim that this treatment is the fault of men, of toxic masculinity and of the patriarchy and that feminism is the force needed to fix it. This despite them being the reason for this sad state of affairs in the first place. At least now we have an admittance from their own filthy and bloodstained hands that they have knowingly “contained” – their word – instances of male victims and female perpetrators, so one would be inclined to believe that this excuse would no longer work.

Yet, it will still work.

It will still be presented as being the fault of men. Whilst in actuality being a combination of the succubi forces of feminism and the gynocentric nature of our species designing a cultural cutlery narrative that women are victims, even when women are the perpetrators. I can imagine no harsher punishment – no harsher and more foul treatment – than being arrested for being assaulted by ones partner, adding insult to injury one snakelike slither at a time, with the godawful feminist dogma whispering in his ear that this is the fault of men and of himself by extension.

A few quotes from the paper, which I think is of interest:

They offered to listen if I wanted to recount what had happened, but indicated that no support services were available”.

I was mostly just doing research after the occurrence to find out what I should do. I found mostly female help sites and was turned down by several so I gave up.

In regards to law involvement:

They determined she was the aggressor but said since I was a man it was silly to arrest her.”

Told me to get her help. Told me to spend the night in a hotel.”

They saw me as a large male and… took her side. I was at the hospital with bruising and burned eyes from hot coffee thrown in them. They didn’t believe that she did this… and refused to arrest her… The next incidence… the police… saw me bleeding they charged her with felony DV, but later dropped it to misdemeanour assault because we are not married and do not live together.”

Well, now, ain’t that interesting in light of the first paper linked? I would dare say that in the line of duty, neglect of the male is right there up front and centre for all the world to see, were they only willing to do so. Clearly, it is incredibly difficult to see after decades of feminist lobbying and implementations – or alterations – of law made to define Domestic Violence in a light spun neatly by the web of feminist dogma, such as the Duluth-model for dealing with domestic violence. But more on that later, as I keep saying whenever I bring it up. I think – quite simply – that it deserves a ramble all on its lonesome.

When all things are placed within the framework of an ideology that presumes women to be the oppressed and men to be the oppressors, violence can only ever go one way. And that way is down from the top – from man to woman. Women who are violent against their male partners are thus given leeway for her supposedly being oppressed for being female and nothing but. The domestic violence industry has handcrafted this fairytale on feminist insistence, where the big bad wolf is the man and everything done to fight the big bad wolf is of the good, even when that means a man being arrested for his horrible crime of being assaulted.

And so, the girl cried “Wolf”.

Because he must have done something to her that caused her to lash out at him. Because the story told and the image presented for decades has been one in which women are never the main perpetrators, nor the first instigators. It has been presented as being so simple, so lacking in nuance as to be black and white; that is the ever-popular Men Bad – Women Good. I know I repeat this often. This point needs to be hammered home with all the persistence and subtlety of a rampant AK-47 in the hands of a drugged-out-of-his-mind chimpanzee.

When faced with this – that male victims are arrested – the feminist hive-mind does, in my admittedly anecdotal experience one of two things. They defend the woman, stating that he must have done something. Or they claim – as they always do – that this is the fault of the patriarchy for viewing women as weak and helpless, forgetting for convenience the fact that all this is the fault of feminist lobbying. That this is the fault of feminism is made evident – clear and bright as the dawning of a new day – when looking at the first paper linked, or looking at the interview with foul and filthy Katherine Spillar in the documentary the Red Pill, wherein she states that “it is not girls beating up on boys, it is boys beating up on girls” and that “Domestic Violence” is nothing but a “clean-up word for wife-beating.” Imagine my bedazzled shock!

If this is not neglecting male victims and containing female perpetrators for the movement and the ideology and nothing but that, I have no idea what is.

This does not matter much, however, within a culture that is so decided upon viewing women as permanent victims of the tyranny of men that we willingly ignore all facts to the contrary of the cultural narrative. And that is a narrative that has been pushed and prodded and presented as absolute fact for decades, despite being at the best falsely presented statistics, and at the worst downright lies.

The worst part – to my eyes at least – is not the narrative being presented of only men being perpetrators and only women being victims. The worst part of it all is that this one-sided narrative, this bitterly unnuanced view of things, stand directly in the path, blocking what would be the best attempt at remedying the problem. And that is looking at the core reason for violence, which seems to be linked intimately with family of origin issues.

That is to say – the sins of the father will be visited upon the son. Adding, of course, that the sins of the mother and father both will be visited upon the son and the daughter both, in equal measure. Doomed to repetition is the generational cycle of abuse.

For are not our behaviours – our patterns of behaviour in adult life very much a reflection of that of our parents, be they our mothers or our fathers? Being able to see this pattern – this circle of abuse clearly, would mean being able to consider the instigators of violence, the perpetrators of violence within a family, be that reciprocal or not, in light of the abuse they suffered at the hands of their parents. Not as a manner of excuse for their behaviour, but as a way to teach them ways of working through the trauma from the abuse that is not them re-playing it time and again, regurgitating the same generational sins as their parents and their parents did, and so forth and so on.

It would mean grabbing the serpent by its tail, understanding that it is a far more complex issue than the feminist hive-mind and their various sultry snake-cult priestesses would have it presented. This way of tackling the issue, however, would of course mean that the feminist movement as well as the domestic violence movement, which is, to be honest, more or less the same thing at this point, would loose not only the stranglehold they have on the discussion but also a wealth of funding and control.

Which I, of course, consider to be a godsend.

But which they clearly do not – hence the first paper linked, wherein they present arguments for acknowledging female perpetrators of domestic violence in order to further the agenda of the movement, not the help or protection of the individual victims of intimate partner violence, nor the families destroyed by it.

Which just goes to show that feminism cares neither for women nor for men, but their own agenda. Whatever that agenda may be at any given moment.

It is definitive proof that feminism as a movement cares for naught but their movement. Women that oppose their movement and the dogma of it all – Erin Pizzey, for instance, can burn in hell for all they are concerned. And men can go to hell as a collective no matter who they are or what they have done. Or what they haven’t done. Where there should be compassion shown to those who are abused no matter their sex, there is naught. All there is is a movement so entrenched in its own ideology and orthodoxy that they willingly – and admittedly – lie in order to further this orthodoxy. At the expense of victims, be they male or female, adult or child.

And that is that.

No individual matter.

Only the party matter.

All else is naught but sacrifices for the serpent-god.

 – Please like, share and subscribe

 – Moiret Allegiere, 10.08.2019

____________________________________________________________________________________________

Links:

My book – Howling at a Slutwalk Moon:

Vol 1 Paperback: https://www.amazon.com/dp/107571074X
Vol 1 Kindle: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07TZTPDPR
Vol 2 Paperback: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1075714184
Vol 2 Kindle: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07TZR25NL
Vol 1 Illustrated Paperback: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1075717094
Vol 2 Illustrated Paperback: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1075723078

Other links:
Redbubble shop: https://www.redbubble.com/people/Moiret/shop
Blog: https://moiretallegiere.wordpress.com/
YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC3IaCxAXE3pQd7PCdvHoaaA
Bitchute: https://www.bitchute.com/channel/EvbGZyTZSraY/
twatter: https://twitter.com/MAllegiere
Gab: https://gab.com/Moiret_Allegiere
Minds: https://www.minds.com/Moiret
Flickr: https://www.flickr.com/people/152465815@N04/

Vile cacti sodomy: A ramble on the empathy-gap:

rock n roll will never die lowres

Illustration: «Rock’N’Roll will never die», 2019, Moiret Allegiere

 

In this weird and strange hay-stack world of ours, where all manner of elusive illusion reign supreme, one figment of fantasy tower above all other. That would be the illusion – the phenomenal fantasy – of some grand global network of conspirators aimed at making men the privileged sex. This is dubbed the nefarious patriarchy, thriving and revelling on the subjugation and enslavement of women.

The claim that the voices and concerns of women are never heard is so ridiculous given the state of things that wilful blindness is the only possible reason for people to make this claim. Personally, I much prefer the reptilian conspiracy to that of the patriarchy. I think it makes way more sense.

The fact of the matter is that the shrieking tunes of the feminist death-squads and marching bands are heard and given credence no matter how absurd and ridiculous their claims, no matter how much their statements are debunked time and again by people far more clever than both them and myself. If it is a problem predominantly facing women, you can bet your pontificating arse and snivelling snoot that heaven and hell will be moved in order to fix it. Or at the very least alleviate it. Even if it is a ridiculous first-world problem easily mended by taking some more responsibility for one self, as is the case with the horribly sexist air-conditioning; a non-issue and personal pet-peeve of mine, remedied quite easily by the woman or women in question putting on more clothes.

Imagine that.

Considering that the dress-codes for men in workspaces where air-conditioning exist tend to be far more rigid than they are for women, business-suits of course being the only acceptable form of clothing for a professional man, there is little wonder that men in these workspaces would be far warmer than the women in these spaces. A business-suit is a hot thing, warm as the devil himself. And not being allowed to wear anything but this suit; no shorts, no shirts, no nothing of the sort… All to give the veneer of professionalism sorely needed by the company, it would be fair to say that the air-conditioning should keep the space cool and that the women being cold should maybe do something as simple as putting on a sweater or wearing pants or something of that nature. Radical notion, I know. But that is what happens when you get radicalised by the horrible patriarchal reptile forces of the internet.

This is, of course, an incredibly sexist and horribly misogynist thing to say, as women should be free to do whatever the hell they want to do, even if that includes blaming other people for their problems of feeling a slight chill in the workplace when the only thing needed to do is to put on one more layer of clothing. I assume this will be held forth as a shining example of a man trying to control what women do with their bodies; not taking into account the dress-codes for men in these spaces.

This does not matter, obviously, because men being uncomfortable in the stifling heat and lack of oxygen in the sauna-like room temperature that seems to be preferred by women everywhere is just another manifestation of primeval male toxicity calling for the governance and patriarchal regulation of female body-temperatures. Where will it all end? At some point – men may be so rough and domineering as to keep the temperature of the room at a level where they are comfortable.

Cor blimey, governess, we can’t have that, now can we – men can not, under any possible circumstances, be expected to be comfortable? Holy hell and shining madness – soon you’ll be expecting they be allowed to sit comfortably as well… soon, you’d be expecting men to sit in the manner their biology dictate… and we’d see a horrid rise in episodes of vile and violent manspreading. Best get that man-spread-combating chair of monumental stupidity – designed by a feminist apparently considered a hero by the frail and fragile forces of frantic and frazzled feminism – rolled out to meet and greet the world at large. Knock it into the law-books; manspreading to be punished by public castration. That sounds good! YASSSSSS! Slay QUEEN!

…And various other ululations of feminist preposterous pandering and self-congratulations; patting themselves on the back on their path towards irredeemable and superfluous obsolescence.

Anyone not currently basking in the radioactive glow of unlubricated feminist sodomy lovingly delivered by the strap on cacti-dildo of some-odd dominatrix, should be able to see the lack of empathy where men are concerned scrawled across the crossword patterns of our wretched and decaying civilization. Born as much from men being the disposable sex as it is from lobbying feminist activities and academic institutions indoctrinating young minds into the victim cult, it is everywhere. Right out there in the open for all the world to see. If only all the world were willing to see it. The pain of men is unfortunately taboo to the vast void of the world, and so men who suffer and who struggle are shunned. They are told that there is something wrong with them for being men; that they deal with their emotions all wrong and so need to open up and talk about them. Only to be met with ridicule, shaming and god-knows-what when they do. Toxic masculinity causes men to not share their feelings and emotions. And fragile masculinity is the terminology of choice used to shame men when men do. Odd how that works; almost as though the ideology and preposterous ideas therein are manufactured to paint this picture that men are wrong no matter what and how they do.

See, women in general don’t seem to want this emotional openness in a man. And men know this. More oft than not, they know and learn this by experience, the moment they go from being boys to being men and get met with far less understanding and cozy comfort. So men learn how to process and handle their emotions on their own, in their own way. By and large.

When being told that this is the wrong way to go about it, and being shown that trying to talk about their emotions the way the feminist-infused school of thought demand brings nothing but the same feminist-infused school of thought crashing down on them with all the horrid power of the ancient ones, the breaking point is closing in.

And damaged people damage people.

Snap, crackle, pop.

Everyone has a breaking point.

In seeing how much protest any-and-all conference aimed at the issues men face meet, not only by the awesome might and fury of the feminist forces, but also by society at large – so much so that they are shut down, forced to change venues, forced into obscurity – one can not help but wonder how the claim that the voices of women are never heard can make any manner of sense. Nor how it makes any manner of sense that only the voices and concerns of men are heard. Consider the backlash to Cassie Jaye’s documentary the Red Pill, where genderless gender-studies professors of – apparently – no ill repute prop up their terrified and trembling forms on television to completely and utterly lie about the men’s rights movement and what it represents, sculpting clay-models and straw-men of men who want nothing but to be free to rape and plunder like Mongolian hordes. Consider television hosts in Australia admitting to not seeing the film, but bashing it nonetheless… consider screenings of the film being shut down on feminist insistence… and tell me, with a straight face, that issues facing men are taken seriously; that only the voices of men are heard to the detriment of women.

When the voices of the men’s rights movement are shut down at every turn and men are being constantly bombarded with negative messages regarding their sexuality, their sex and their masculinity.

Like the APA guidelines for dealing with men and boys, in which the finite and infant-like wisdom of the dominant ideology reign supreme, putting into place the notion of masculinity as some form of toxic and destructive ideology. IDEOLOGY. The psychiatrists will then, of course, deal with the issues boys and men face when coming in to seek help by telling them that it is their masculinity – that is – their identity as boys and as men that is the main problem facing them, nothing more, nothing less.

So, one would have to wonder – why is the suicide rate of boys and men so high? Not that we hear that much about the suicide rate and how many men kill themselves, of course. Because women attempt suicide more, so that must be the focus point of our societies in which women are hated so-so much. Never taking into account that the women who attempt suicide survive and the men that kill themselves die. Not taking into account that women who attempt suicide may be crying for help – something that, I absolute believe, should be taken seriously, but which is a far cry from actually dying by their own hand. Nor is it taking into account repeat attempts at suicide by the same woman, boosting the numbers some. Or “simple” self-harm documented as suicide attempts. Nevertheless, it is painted as some preposterous problem facing women first and foremost, as are all issues. Even when men are most affected, it must be somehow twisted and turned so that women are the main victims. Men dying don’t matter. Because women didn’t die. It makes perfect sense, of course. When one sex receives empathy and understanding and the other sex does not.

Yet, the claim is there: the empathy-gap does not exist, as we all should well know by now. It is for the lack of the empathy-gap that women who snap and kill their children or their partners prompt us to feel sorry for them, opening for dialogues of immense importance in regards to mental health and how horrible the state of women’s mental health is. Women are, in other words, and by the insistence of the dominant feminist forces in our society, crazy.

You will excuse me giggling like a rabid schoolgirl.

In so doing, they are creating all manner of ways in which the partner of the woman may be made to be the perpetrator after the fact, being that he most assuredly abused her to the point of her snapping and killing him or their children or both. What a splendid thing, what a tremendous stroke of luck, that he is dead then, and with no possible ability to defend himself. Victim-blame much, you trite troglodyte?

Sounds like the rhetoric of an abuser to me, but what the hell do I know? Men can’t be abused by women, after all. Because feminism said so. And since they said it, it must be true. Proven, of course, by the severe lack of domestic violence shelters for men… or for boys, given that boys above a certain age who are abused are not allowed within the premises of these shelters for women and their children fleeing the horrible and tyrannical patriarch at home. A son is only to be sheltered as long as he is a boy and not a man. For, when being a man, he clearly can take care of himself – as women are absolutely incapable of doing, apparently. The train of ridiculous logic that follows is circular – there are few – if any shelters – for abused men – there are many shelters for abused women – therefore it follows that women are abused more and men are abused less. This is despite the fact that feminists have protested and done all in their power to not have shelters available for men. This goes all the way back to the first shelters created by Erin Pizzey – a woman I have an immense respect and admiration for, and whose experiences I recommend any and all to read – in which she quickly learned that women who sought shelter were just as, if not more, abusive as the men from whom they sought shelter.

She then tried to open a shelter for abused men, and got met by a campaign of harassment by the feminist forces that is difficult to believe in a society in which feminism is painted as a force of good and nothing but. But that is the way of revisionist history and historians; she who controls the past controls the present. She also controls the future.

For the simplest and most profound example of the empathy-gap, one could simply point to male genital mutilation being allowed and – in many cases – recommended, whereas female genital mutilation is illegal, in order to best showcase the glaringly obvious presence of said empathy-gap. But that don’t matter none, because mutilating the penises of baby boys ain’t no problem. Boys don’t have bodily autonomy, my little pumpkin. And that is quite alright; nothing sexist or horrible about allowing one sex to be genitally mutilated at birth – shaming those who oppose it – and making it completely illegal for the other sex. Nothing wrong with using these severed foreskin in facial creams, for the vanity of women either. This is just to be expected; fresh baby-facials for the women, and shame on you if you disagree, or find this a bit icky. These women have all the right in the world to smear severed baby foreskin on their wrinkly faces, you boorish blue-collar slobs. As if the genital integrity of boys mattered more than the unwrinkled countenance of some past-her-prime woman in superficial distress; woe betide you, should you dare oppose the facial gluttony of the barbarian queen.

Honk, fucking honk.

I could go on and on about this. This is just a rambling introduction to the empathy-gap; a roguish ballad sung by a bearded bard riddled with spontaneity, insomnia and sudden bursts of insanity. There is a lot to unwrap, to ponder and consider in this silly world of ours.

I will leave you with some more thoughts on incels, which I touched upon in an earlier piece – “Shame and Ridicule on the Howling Plains of Twitter”, available on Bitchute, YouTube and my blog. Incels have been on my mind quite a lot lately, and I am pondering doing some larger piece on the phenomena of inceldom, if I find more thoughts on this accumulating within the vortex of my cranial madness.

Norway has a television channel very much like the BBC, which of course is far more than a television channel now. Funded by the population by force and the government by choice. It is also infected very much with the vampiric forces of regressive progressivism and the holy ghost of feminism, obviously making them less-than unbiased. Even when they claim that they are unbiased.

That is the problem when people are so engulfed by their beliefs and convictions that they do not consider it properly – they do not see their own bias. This is a very human thing. For itself, there is nothing wrong with it. We all have confirmation bias, one way or the other. It is wrong when something that everyone is forced by law to pay for does not represent the interests of the population in any objective way, mirroring only one set of beliefs, values and convictions and claiming this to be unbiased, thus colouring the mainstream view of the thing by presenting itself as nuanced and unbiased.

Some years back now, they had a news-article on their website about a woman in a wheelchair complaining that the lack of interest she received from men – when sitting in a wheelchair, as opposed to pictures where she was not in her wheelchair – on tinder was a form of sexual harassment in itself, as she felt herself ignored by men for being in a wheelchair. Hardly worth doing an article about, I thought then and I think now. There followed a few lines about her being just as deserving of love as someone not wheelchair-bound.

Maybe she should have used some of that baby-foreskin facial cream. That might have helped. Probably not though. Wouldn’t have helped. Not with those legs.

What sticks out here is, of course, that she sounds very much as though she is involuntarily celibate, forced into a state of permanent singlehood by forces beyond her control. As though she is one of those disgusting incels we’ve been hearing so much about. You know; the ones who feel as though they are entitled to companionship and to sex. Those horrible people whose situation in life has been turned into a quick and easy insult for disgruntled feminists and their orbiting white knights to pull out at their whim and fancy whenever arguments are lacking.

If said incel is a man, of course.

If a woman shows up and acts as though she is entitled to love, companionship and sex from men, she is met with empathy and understanding. To such a degree that woe-is-me type news articles pop up from the wood-works and make themselves heard to make us feel sorry for her and do all that we can in order that her plight of being single – that is, being an incel, is alleviated. For how could any man be so horrible as to have romantic and/or sexual preferences on their own? Men are not allowed this, you see. If a woman shows interest in a man, the man is expected to reciprocate in kind – lest he be considered a superficial arsehole. Does not matter whether the woman is fat, or in a wheelchair, or whatever it may be that throws the man off and makes him not turn on the testosterone-fuelled rape-cannon below his belt – if he shows no interest in her if she shows interest in him, there is something wrong with him. Some would maybe call this behaviour entitlement, but what do I know? The inverse does not apply, but that is part and parcel of life in the strange purgatorial afterlife we have inhabited since 2012.

This is not the only article I have read in which female incels are shown care and compassion that male incels have never been shown, nor ever will be shown.

I sent a complaint to this state-sanctioned, populace-and-government funded channel of ours regarding this article. I worded this complaint properly, of course. Thinking that – since I bloody well pay for this mass of propaganda and nonsense, I have every right in the world to complain.

In this complaint, I asked them if they would publish the same kind of article were it a man complaining about – in essence – not getting laid due to circumstances beyond his control.

They never replied.

As they usually never do whenever I complain. I have sent them a few complaints in my time. Only when their bias is clearly shining through, proving that they do not for one flat-farted second represent the interests of the people who are forced to pay for their spewing of biased bile.

There is that which is so strange to me; that mist floating out there on the horizon, within which all manner of ghosts and ghouls and terrors roam; that outpouring of empathy and understanding where women are concerned, that majestic lack of it where men are concerned. Men, who feel a lack of companionship and of sex are scorned and shunned and ridiculed; are told that they are not entitled to sex, nor are they entitled to a woman’s time. Which I, admittedly, agree with. I also agree that women are not entitled to sex, romance, companionship or what have you.

However; women who feel entitled to this are given empathy and understanding; are given a place in our government-funded public broadcasters of propaganda and sanitized trash to vent their frustrations in regards to this, to lay all the blame on men for not wanting to bang her, for not wanting to enter into a relationship with her for her being in a wheelchair.

And it is not that I don’t have empathy for her. I actually do. Just as I have empathy and understanding for men who are in a similar situation to her. It is that society at large demonize men who are in that position – men who long for meaningful relationships, men who long for physical touch, who long for anything beyond the purely platonic. It is that our newspapers and our public broadcasters paint these men in a horrid light; as haters of women and as rapists-in-waiting, as potential mass-murderers and whatever they’ve got to throw their way, whilst simultaneously making empathetic fluff-pieces about women who act just in the same way that these so-called foul, horrid, basement-dwelling, neckbearded, fedora-wearing incel-bastards do.

Women who feel entitled to sex, love, romance and relationships are to be listened to and understood. And be allowed to shame men for not wanting to fuck them, love them or caress them.

Men who feel entitled to sex, love, romance and relationships are to be shamed and ridiculed. For wanting to fuck women, be caressed, or loved by women.

And yet, there is no empathy-gap to speak of.

And all men’s dreams are torn asunder.

And all men’s love denied eternal.

And all men’s pain invisible.

And all men’s all lost.

And still, men are supposedly the ones whom all the world listen to.

 – Please like, share and subscrive

 – Moiret Allegiere.24.07.2019

____________________________________________________________________________________________

Howling at a Slutwalk Moon:

Vol 1 Paperback: https://www.amazon.com/dp/107571074X
Vol 1 Kindle: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07TZTPDPR
Vol 2 Paperback: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1075714184
Vol 2 Kindle: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07TZR25NL
Vol 1 Illustrated Paperback: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1075717094
Vol 2 Illustrated Paperback: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1075723078

Other links:
Redbubble shop: https://www.redbubble.com/people/Moiret/shop
Blog: https://moiretallegiere.wordpress.com/
YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC3IaCxAXE3pQd7PCdvHoaaA
Bitchute: https://www.bitchute.com/channel/EvbGZyTZSraY/
twatter: https://twitter.com/MAllegiere
Gab: https://gab.com/Moiret_Allegiere
Minds: https://www.minds.com/Moiret
Flickr: https://www.flickr.com/people/152465815@N04/

My Generation Killed Rock’N’Roll:

As my fedora gently weeps lowres

Illustration: «As my Fedora Gently Weeps», 2019, Moiret Allegiere

We are a generation lost, choking on our own fumes of self-righteous indignation egged on by dishonest academic coprophilia. Come past, come present, come future, we will all be forced to eat shit and then die, harnessed to our safety-bubbles and lost within the great wide world-void without a safety net. Cerebral coprophilia.

Where once we used to taste and thrive on danger – what could be considered dangerous – rebellion and wild vulgarity, rock’n’roll and free expression – we now thrive on telling others what they may or may not speak and how they should go about doing so. Or not doing so.

Where once we used to laugh and crack whiplash-jokes at just about anything, we are now so inoculated that our mediocre playtime schools tell us nothing of substance for fear of triggering the trigger-happy woke hipster squad armed with muscle-loss rifles. Pow pow pow.

We are the generation of South Park and gross-out humour. And we can’t stand anything offensive. It boggles the mind and shakes the spinal fluid out my nose and ears. If anything, we should be so used to wild kicks in all directions that nothing would phase us. But the loonies have taken over the asylum. They have overrun our institutions and turned them on their head very much over heels – wondrous institutions of higher indoctrination into the victim cult of burnt offerings – neck scarred by failed lynchings – free-form ideas replaced with cancerous tumours. We no longer seek to understand or heal through laughter and through humour. We seek to heal through trapping ourselves within a cage and throwing away the key. Demanding anything we don’t like be thrown out of society and beaten to a bloody pulp by those who are supposedly opposed to violence. Mad wild-beast-hysteria, mirroring those who protested rock’n’roll, who decided that Dungeons and Dragons was a pathway to satanism, who blamed Alice Cooper for murders and claimed Marilyn Manson as the reason for school-shootings and massacres.

Masculinity is taught in schools to be a dangerous ideology, through years of unchecked auto-cannibalism on behalf of western thought. Research gone the route of subjective opinion where objective fact is naught but triggers for the squad of woke dementia branded by their handlers and told that they must never have their feelings hurt. If they are of a non-masculine persuasion, that is.

For there are no checks in place, no balance to be had. Boys and men may still be subject to denigration and hatred, uncensored and shot out both barrels of rhetorical shotguns aimed flat-fisted and devoid of facts at the chests and beating hearts of young boys trapped in schools to be told that they are vicious visceral beasts of rape and annihilation. And girls are still sugar and spice and everything nice – en mass.

All boys and men should do is sit still, silent and complacent, as their inner world burns and wild teacher’s manifested telepathy reach into their minds to tell them not what they think but what the academic nincompoops of mass-indoctrinated hay-fever tell them that they think that they think. For boys are still snips and snails and puppy-dog tails. And there is something wrong with boys and with men that must be unlearned through rigorous academic shit-tests. And this is painted as being of great service to boys and men! Manufacturing confusion and inner turmoil, self-loathing and layers of shame in the souls of boys and men – attacking their core identity – is rendered as a service and not a full frontal assault on their very being. In a just universe, these people would be shunned and shamed for their blatant assault on a group of people for nothing but their innate characteristics. In a universe and a society that ran on reason, these peddlers of abhorrent hatred would be hated and curb-stomped and left in the wilderness.

My generation is doomed. Domesticated and complacent. Whipped into place by hatred and shame painted in the new glow of liberating equality; by gender-political con-artists espousing feminine virtue as the only virtue, demanding that they be the ones to decide what are the real problems facing men, never leaving men a space to decide for themselves. Or speak on behalf of themselves. Punctuated by the guttural roar of clenched teeth and fists flung violently towards the world of men. And never – never understanding that it is not in the best interest of men that men should not be allowed to speak for themselves as to what constitutes and makes a man a man, that it is not in the best interest of men that men should not be the ones to speak on what are the issues facing men.

A political movement that has picked its own enemy should not be the ones to speak on behalf of their enemy. This should be obvious. Yet, here we are, a society so firmly placed betwixt the unwashed butt-cheeks of feminist misandric ideology that all our noses and all our tongues are brown, and all we taste and smell is shit. So much so that we do not notice the taste and smell any more. We take it for granted. Part and parcel of the western utopian pipe-bomb-dream where sex and gender does not matter, except when it does matter. And when it does matter, it is when one is better than the other and one is worse than the other. Skewed heavily in favour of the fraud and sham of feminist poltergeist-philosophy, thriving on hatred and division when claiming to be nothing of the sort. Of course.

My generation were fed the notion of equal treatment through the myopic lenses of frazzled and bewildered feminism. We had feminism forced down our throats as the movement with a monopoly on equality; the movement of equality to end all other civil rights movements, past, present and future. So that no other voices and no other views were to be heard and were to be seen. Because there were no other movements of such fantastic vision, such fantastic truth and beauty. Opposition to feminism meant not only opposition to equality, but opposition to women. And opposition to women is worse than being opposed to equality. Which, I think, should be an eye-opener if ever there was one.

Any movement that does not tolerate dissent… that does not tolerate other movements… should be hastily ignored and thrown out the door flat on their anaemic arse. Any political movement so tyrannical and so domineering as to claim to hold the monopoly on this, that or the other should be hastily broken down and drowned in its own septic flesh. The obvious totalitarianism in this way of thinking is nothing that should be celebrated. Yet, it was and it is celebrated. It is taught and told and forced down our gullible throats as the only path towards equality – whatever that tenderly infected term “equality” means.

My generation had no personal choice in the matter. We were brow-beaten and whipped into compliance with feminist orthodoxy and dogmatic rule through pictures painted and presented us of poor oppressed women herded like sheep to the slaughter, opposed at all sides by the wickedness and cruelty of men. Leered at and raped at every turn of the cock, ticking timebombs as they were, throbbing and waiting for rape and pillage and plunder and the spoiling of virginal and sanctified womanhood.

All this to justify the building up of girls – the girl power rhetoric so hip and cool – at the expense of boys, whose shuddering and neglected shapes fell flat on their faces on the sidelines of education reform that taught us nothing but to feel ashamed and feel guilty for our sex; that taught us nothing but an inherent knowledge that we were bad. And all the while telling us, with serpent-tongues and crimson smiles, that it was not about hating men or boys.

Where once we dared to set course for uncharted waters… where we dared to face the world on our own terms, we have been rendered impotent and deemed incompetent. We have been thrown to the margins and forgotten; our pride and our masculinity swallowed by the serpent-shape of gender-politics claiming to speak on behalf of both genders, yet caring only for one, neglecting the other.

And the serpent gave birth to numerous offspring, clans upon clans of followers of the snake-cult, all clinically brain-dead and washed ashore on the rhetoric of shame-hate-rage-ruin-ridicule, hiding and cowering in fear if anyone should propose something outside their ideological comfort zone. Claiming offence if truths are presented, and then demanding protection from facts and from truths uncomfortable to their preconceived notions of supposed equal treatment, meaning, of course, “superiority for me, inferiority for thee”. An arrogant tribe of spoilt and rotten eggs, all claiming tolerance and lack of hatred, all claiming open-mindedness and truth and reason, whilst showing lack of tolerance, proving their unflinching and unbridled hatred at any turn, keeping their minds closed to anything outside their realm of proclaimed knowledge and disavowing facts and truth and reason countering their dogmatic, borderline religious, flat-earth-like convictions.

And claiming all things to be offensive, in order to shut down any opposition. This and that and all the other stuff is offensive. As if that is enough of an argument, as if merely the pregnant tunes of offence taken is a counter-argument. A glaringly obvious tactic of manipulation in place of arguments. Which somehow fucking bloody god-damned works within and without powerful institutions.

My generation killed Rock’n’roll.

God have mercy on our souls.

 – Please like, share and subscribe

 – Moiret Allegiere, 20.07.2019

____________________________________________________________________________________________

Howling at a Slutwalk Moon – a book:

Vol 1 Paperback: https://www.amazon.com/dp/107571074X
Vol 1 Kindle: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07TZTPDPR
Vol 2 Paperback: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1075714184
Vol 2 Kindle: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07TZR25NL
Vol 1 Illustrated Paperback: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1075717094
Vol 2 Illustrated Paperback: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1075723078

Other links:
Redbubble shop: https://www.redbubble.com/people/Moiret/shop
Blog: https://moiretallegiere.wordpress.com/
YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC3IaCxAXE3pQd7PCdvHoaaA
Bitchute: https://www.bitchute.com/channel/EvbGZyTZSraY/
twatter: https://twitter.com/MAllegiere
Gab: https://gab.com/Moiret_Allegiere
Minds: https://www.minds.com/Moiret
Flickr: https://www.flickr.com/people/152465815@N04/

Shame and Ridicule on the Howling plains of Twitter:

Reach lowres

Illustration: «Reach», 2019, Moiret Allegiere

In order to bring your regular blue-pilled and blue-balled man to his knees, whimpering and stuttering profound expressions of regret, you need two things. A woman. And shame. This is something that is difficult to spot at first, as it seems to be a thing that has been cemented in our cultural evolution just as much as it has been fixed in the midst of our biological evolution. As such, it is something that gets taken for granted, by both men and women. A part of the social game and fabric of our mutually assured societal suicide; a living, breathing entity trapped within the basement-dwellings of our primal reptilian longing to fornicate and procreate.

Women are the gatekeepers of sex; of fornication and procreation and thusly the ones who decide whether or not a man is allowed to create any form of progeny… or to see his lineage dwindle and die.

Little wonder then that we are willing to put up with so much ridicule and shame from the fairer sex than we would ever be willing to put up with from men. This is not to say that we should put up with it. It is to say that it is so commonplace that it is nigh impossible to see unless you have your eyes opened wide by some personal tragedy or by forcefully applied reason, logic and common fucking sense. And when you do not see it, you take it for granted. It is part of the social fabric; the way things have always been and always will be. Unless we change it.

See, during my much-needed hiatus from writing on these topics, I have not been lazy. Nor have I kept myself out of the loop, as any sane individual would do were they to take a break from everything. I am clinically insane. As a result of this, I can not take a break from things no matter how much my aching body and decaying mind tell me that they need to. The show must go on, I suppose. Well, the show and my obsession on certain topics of the day.

I am not someone who will willingly participate in a debate. Hell; I have to be dragged kicking and screaming out of my cave just to go outside and get something to eat, leaving behind me a trail of despair and destruction much befitting a pseudo-hermit like myself. Winding up in some online debate with a perfect stranger would be, to my gobsmacked intestinal tract, an ulcer in waiting and a prolapsed back emerging from the shackled shadow of the somewhat social teenager I used to be, with all the gloomy angst and mysterious stranger vibes I could conjure forth from my then-emerging extreme introversion.

No, I am not one for debates. I always wind up muttering, stuttering, mumbling something incomprehensible and then doing my best to fade into the woodwork or dig a hole in the ground where I could sleep for a thousand years.

Cause I am tired, I am weary.

My Twitter profile is a living testament to this, as one would expect. My tweets are few and far between. The “likes” I have doled out lovingly to the masterful guards standing in the way of the rampaging feminist hordes, shielded by facts and wielding flaming words of immense illumination are not that few and far between, as I very much enjoy reading and watching debates online. Whether that be professional debates in professional settings, or on online forums like Reddit or Twitter or what-have-you.

Used to be I’d watch or read debates on just about everything, in order to get a grasp on the thought-processes of people and the arguments espoused from either side of a debate. It didn’t matter then, and it don’t matter much now whether I agreed with any side or not. My interest lies in seeing and understanding a side, understanding their reasoning and their conclusions. Keeping an open mind is key to this; to view things from as many perspectives as possible, and then letting what makes the most sense guide my own view and opinion on things. Lately, what debates I have read and/or seen have been mainly feminist vs non-feminist/MRA’s. For obvious reasons.

And what is so absurdly and incomprehensibly gobsmacking in these debates – if you would even want to call them that – is the amount of shame and personal attacks ushered forth from the feminist harpies. There is very little argument of any value to be found – if there really are any.

There is a constant flow of shaming and ridicule, and that is more or less that. And these people seem to be absolutely unaware of this. It is funny to watch and to behold how their regular shaming tactics don’t work on men who have woken up to this horrifying fact and facet of life and the social fabric. How they take it all in stride as the frightbat tunes of shame and ridicule fall on deaf ears completely in tune with the harmonious winds of their own mad-genius laughter as they watch these tried-and-true tactics be completely useless in the face and eyes of the enlightened and noble transcendent spirits.

In encountering non-feminist women, the shaming tactics get even worse and more ridiculous.

Cause this is unknown territory – these are uncharted waters, captain, and we don’t have any particular framework to navigate. We can’t seem to shame them for the size of their genitals any more, nor their lack of sexual prowess and/or ability to provide for and protect a woman and children. God-damn, what should we do then? Well, arr, damned if I know, matey. I assume that there can not possibly be women who think like this, and as such it must be a man clothed and disguised as a female internet-persona as a fantastically smart way of bringing shame upon the global sisterhood. Because that is what I would do, god-damnit!

Clearly, no woman could possibly be opposed to the feminist mindset of being an eternal victim and permanently downtrodden; of being constantly so beat down by the world that she could not possibly be expected to navigate it on her own without breaking into hives, sweaty panic and full frontal feral nudity and madness in protest of the sexualization of her voluptuous body-rolls and ginormous foot-impact on the soil.

It is either a man, or a woman so desperate for intimacy with a man that she is willing to lie in order to get a foot within the door of his provider-protector shack. A “Pick-me” I believe is the terminology of choice to these people, so up their own ass and addicted to sniffing their own farts that they are completely incapable of comprehending the simple fact that sex and gender is not a unifying ideal; that neither sex is a homogeneous mass of drones doing and thinking the exact same thing in perpetuity. So foreign is the notion of women opposing feminism that there has to be some nefarious reason for them doing so; either an MRA – as of course are only men – posing as a woman, or a woman who can not find love and so must pretend to be opposed to the sexual inequality and infantilizing of women which feminism so clearly crafts and creates wherever they spread their filthy wings and period-blood, all hysterical and ovary-acting to anything not deemed suitable conduct for a woman. And what is suitable conduct for a woman? Anything feminism dictates. Anything feminism does not dictate is not suitable for a woman. Even if women can do whatever the hell they want. As long as they do what feminism wants, which is not what women in general want, but what feminism wants. Rinse and repeat.

The shaming of men who are opposed to feminism is much the same as the shaming of any man, whether they are opposed to feminism or not. Just another fucking Tuesday for those of us who grew up in the era of feminism. Nothing much changes there, to be frank and perfectly honest. It is the same old rhetoric of feminism when faced with the tragic horror of men and masculinity which they have always spewed from their gibbering jaws of wanton death and destruction; a constant stream of shame for men being men and doing whatever it is that men do.

And, to the eyes and fatty tissue of feminism – whatever it is that men do and are is exactly what feminism is opposed to. And this is subject to change at any moment of any day. Depends on if the moon is in the seventh house or not; if Jupiter is aligned with Mars and if the demented Moon-goddess Luna is on the rag or not.

Usually, an attempted debate devolves quickly into insinuations of a less-than-satisfactory genital size, a lack of sexual partners and sexual prowess, lack of income or ability to protect and to provide for a woman and for a family. Oddly gender-traditional, I always think, as I watch this train wreck occur in front of my eyes in slow motion. I swear to high heavens that feminism is the most gender-traditional set of entitled bastards you will see this side of a medieval romance novel. Both male and female feminists.

Words like “incel” are thrown around willy-nilly, never-minding if the man in question is in a relationship or not. I have seen feminists claim that men who are in a relationship or who are married are lying about it just to deflect from their incelhood. Further establishing the feminist view of men as beings incapable of detaching their selves from their lust to fuck; as if there is – to the poor sight of feminism – nothing more to a man than a throbbing and mutilated cock eternally on the quest for a quick rape or two in some dank alley infested with patriarchal lice and women – pick-me’s – willing to be defiled by the tragedy of male sexuality, begging for a cheap fuck to validate her existence. It is as if feminism sees men as being absolutely nothing without a woman in their life, to defile and subjugate.

Thus pouring the insufferable narcissism of feminism deeply into the cracks of our pavements and the paths on which we walk to our sudden and sullen gloom and doom. How can a man function without a woman in his life? Men, to the eyes of feminism and to society at large, are complete and utter failures if they are incapable of ensnaring some poor woman in their manspread manweb of incessant mansplained mancocks. Men are nothing without women. And women are the moral fabric of society, they shriek and shudder, as they shame men for not finding a woman and shame women for wanting so badly to find a man that they oppose feminism and the divine sisterhood to do so. Then they shame men for wanting to find a woman. And women for not finding a man. Herpityderp.

And of all the horrible things they could find to shame men for, they resolve to involuntary celibacy as the prime force behind their shaming; the core of their unending male shame: the male lack of partnership and sexual as well as emotional fulfilment.

Incels, as is my understanding of it, are often men who have been deeply damaged by society. Or who have some developmental issues, some mental issues, some physical issues that make it very difficult for them to find any meaningful companionship, platonic or not.

Often – but not always – these men have been abused and/or neglected by their parents. They have lacked love and understanding for most of their lives, and they are still incapable of finding love and understanding and so vent their frustrations on the internet, where there at the very least exist other people willing to listen to them and share a bit in their despair.

Most people do want to love and to be loved; to find emotional as well as physical fulfilment in the company of another human being. Physical contact is incredibly important to human beings. In particular in their younger years. Give a child everything but physical contact, and the child will suffer immensely for the lack of physical contact.

A whole hell of a lot of these incels are men who are deeply damaged, scorned and ridiculed by society. Who have been neglected and abused throughout their lives. Who have not found any place where they feel that they fit in or are accepted, and as a result they get angry and frustrated.

This is not to say that I agree with their venting, their anger and frustration. Nor is it to say that I don’t.

This – dear feminist horde of rampant rage and ruin – is what is called being understanding and compassionate; to show empathy. Which the entire world is in dire need of where men are concerned. The empathy-gap is real. Glaringly and obviously so, if one just manage to view men as human beings and not merely human doings; as utilities and a nifty set of tools to get the job done, the lack of empathy where men are concerned becomes really bloody obvious. Especially so the moment one takes a short pause to consider that “incel” is a term now used to shame men.

That incels, men who – more often than not – find themselves at the bottom rungs of society, who are deprived of emotional fulfilment and of physical fulfilment, who are lonely and despairing, are shamed for being just that. Shamed instead of understood and shown empathy and given help. Further hammering the point home in their heads and despairing psyche – that they are not now, nor have they ever been, wanted, loved or needed.

And still this gynocentric, feminist-infested society of ours will claim that the empathy-gap is not real.

It is enough to make me feel sick to the bottom of my soul.

It doesn’t matter what the facts are. It doesn’t matter how many studies and statistics are used in these debates to prove the point against feminism. For these people, feelings are more factual than actual facts are factual. I assume this is because the feelings are immediate and thus take precedence to the ability to stop and think, ponder and consider. If something feels bad, it must be bad. Never mind if it is true or not. Thus, facts counter to the feminist narrative that has been droning on for years uncounted that feel bad can not possibly be true. Cause they feel bad, and that is that.

In my ramblings, in which I will absolutely admit that I am not as good at dropping sources as I should be, there is not a single thing I have stated as fact that can not be backed up by statistics or studies or news-articles or whatever. My lack of dropping sources stems from the fact that I am a writer, not a scholar; an artist, not an academic.

I do my very best to make it obvious when I am talking for myself and when I am referring to some study or statistic or the like.

Believe it or not, given the rambling and hop-scotchy nature of my writing, I happen to chose my words very carefully. The rambling is by choice and by design. And I very often find myself having a hard time writing something if I am just a wee bit uncertain about it. If I have not completed my – admittedly very slow – thinking or research on a certain subject, I falter and my fingers stutter over the keyboard like some drunkard at the bar, searching in vain for that last glimmer of sobriety stuck somewhere in the back of his throat. This is because I want to be as sure as I can be that I am correct in what I write and what I say and what I think. Obviously, this is not to say that I am infallible – that I am always right, like some weird angry God. It is to say that I do my very best to speak truth, even if my style of writing is very much impacted by my emotional state at the moment of writing. My writing may very well be emotional. My reasoning, on the other hand, is not.

For reasons very much unknown to me, but which are probably tied neatly into the obscurity of my blog and of my channel as well as my lack of participation in debates, I have not experienced a lot of shaming and ridicule after I began writing on these topics. Nothing near what I expected. In fact, I have been shamed and ridiculed for my sex and sexuality more before I started writing about these topics than after. I guess it is easier to attack someone who does not speak openly on things of this nature in the holy name of feminism than it is to attack someone who does.

For blue-pilled men are easier prey to various forms of Succubi and harsh siren songs than red-pilled men are. There have been some attempted shaming and personal attacks. Of such grandiose stupidity that I refuse to reply to it. Because I can not understand why in the everlasting blowjob-sunrise I should reply to non-arguments presented as arguments; to self-contradictory statements made within the same paragraph of babbling monologues as each other. I see no reason to counter shaming tactics with anything but the wall of silence which it deserves. Because shaming tactics are not arguments; personal attacks will never be arguments. They are not worthy of a reply. At least not to my eyes. There is really very little to be said to someone who is so possessed by the ghost of feminism that they would claim – without so much as a flicker of regret or doubt – that the only possible conclusion to be had from my opposition to feminism is that I want to be free to abuse my wife however I wish. There is no reasoning with this type of madness, this type of ideological and dogmatic blindness. And I don’t have the time, the energy or the health for it.

Of course; I see that the point in any debate is not so much to sway the opinion of the one with whom one is debating but those who may be looking on. Which is much the reason why I so much enjoy watching debates. Not necessarily to see a feminist PWNED and WRECKED and DESTROYED by FACTS(!!!), however much fun that is, but to see those who may have been on the sidelines getting swayed as much by the behaviour of the feminist or feminists in the debate as by the reasoned arguments by the non-feminist in question. As much as I believe that fighting fire with fire may be worth it (if only for the lolz), as much as I think that holding feminists accountable to their own standard of behaviour and thusly replying to them in kind would be a spectacular display of hypocrisy on their part, there is very little doubt in my mind that the true path towards a society in which feminism does not hold as much sway and power and might and control that they do at the moment of writing is to debate them calmly and succinctly, to disprove their nonsense with actual evidence, with cold and hard facts instead of rambling emotional tirades and ad hominem potshots.

To gently and slowly sway the public opinion.

And to those who are capable of doing just that, I tip my fedora and wriggle my neckbeard in ecstatic glee. For you are the ones fighting. I’m just sitting sheltered in some bunker somewhere, doing what I can on my part, as little as that may very well be.

 – Please like, share and subscribe

 – Moiret Allegiere, 17.07.2019

____________________________________________________________________________________________

Howling at a Slutwalk Moon:

Vol 1 Paperback: https://www.amazon.com/dp/107571074X

Vol 1 Kindle: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07TZTPDPR

Vol 2 Paperback: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1075714184

Vol 2 Kindle: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07TZR25NL

Vol 1 Illustrated Paperback: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1075717094

Vol 2 Illustrated Paperback: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1075723078

Other links:

Redbubble shop: https://www.redbubble.com/people/Moiret/shop

Blog: https://moiretallegiere.wordpress.com/

YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC3IaCxAXE3pQd7PCdvHoaaA

Bitchute: https://www.bitchute.com/channel/EvbGZyTZSraY/

twatter: https://twitter.com/MAllegiere

Gab: https://gab.com/Moiret_Allegiere

Minds: https://www.minds.com/Moiret

Flickr: https://www.flickr.com/people/152465815@N04/

The Cult of Feminism Proper; a secular religion with all the bells and whistles of a dimly lit lighthouse:

When the musics over lowres

Illustration: «When the Music’s over», 2019, Moiret Allegiere

 

Have you accepted Dworkin into your heart and soul?”, she says, brushing a strand of hair dyed the colour of danger away from her eyes as she longingly sucks on her cigarette.

It’s all here, in the scriptures,” she continues, blowing a cloud of acrid blue-tinged smoke from her lips, half parted, cracked and vibrating with some strange inner restlessness almost, but not quite, mimicking nervousness, “embracing the light of feminism will release you from all your woes and worries. In finding Sacred Dworkin and Feminism, I also understood and found my place in this world.”

She fumbles around in her purse for a while, cigarette resting solemnly in an ashtray meant to mimic a pair of labia lips. Gazing around her room, I see, amidst the chaos and turmoil of empty bottles and strange exotic teas, posters hanging on the walls reminding her solemnly, with big bold words, that she is, in fact, a slave and a victim of circumstances beyond her control. In a strange and prophetic manner, these same posters miraculously manage to claim strength; a powerful and exemplary powerlessness; strength through weakness.

I was lost, you see. But now I am found.” She reappears from her purse and hands me a bundle of pamphlets, very similar to the posters in design and – I assume – in message. “It’s strange, how obvious it all is when someone just points it out to you. It’s not me, you see, it is the thrice-cursed Patriarchy pushing and prodding me, forcing me into bad decisions that have impacted my life in this most horrible manner.” Here, she closes her eyes and, with much reverence, makes the sign of the Holy Womb in the air. “My circumstance is not of my making. Girl howdy, was I happy when I figured that one out. Now I spend my days spreading the gospel and the teachings to any whom I encounter.”

Against such conviction one would be hard pressed to argue, I think, as I sip the bitter tea and ponder what the hell I am doing here in the first place. Some strange force compelled me into this darkly lit room, yet I can scarce understand it. It is not her room – that much is for certain – there is a certain air of… headquarters… floating around in here, scents of hustling and bustling… evidence of meetings… stains of strange liquids on the tablecloth and on the carpet… a sacrificial altar of sorts placed in a corner… soiled tampons strewn about the place… a strong smell of sweat… of body odour… a gust of decay… walls crumbling… broken windows mended with sanitary napkins… bloodstained dinner plates… S.C.U.M manifestos printed for cheap mass-consumption… gloom and doom… a meaningless search for meaning… a strong sensation of teenage activism… simplistic and naive… political know-it-all-ism… dogmatic explorations made to explain it all… religious undertones… pinned to the wall… crucified martyrdom… a lonely acceptance of vile submission… crumbling walls… crumbling narratives… clinging to myths as though they were true…

I thank her for the tea, grab the pamphlets and solemnly declare my intention to read them as I make ready to leave before more inhabitants of this foul cesspit arrive. She looks at me with eyes that do not see me, with eyes that see right through my skull and sees goodness knows what in my place: “You had better read them, fuckface!” Her whole demeanour changed in an instance. Where once was a sort-of, kind-of, distanced friendliness there is now only dishevelled madness. I assume she understood my intentions not to read the pamphlets. I assume the holy ghost of Dworkin inhabited her body for a split-second. I assume religious madness in place of reason. I assume many things, as I stumble backwards towards the door, never once losing eye-contact lest she stabs me in the back in a religious frenzy, driven by the certainty of her convictions and the quest for salvation, driven by a fanatical desire to cleanse the world of the unclean, unsaved, the ones who are not baptized in period-blood… the ones who have not accepted the light; the Dworkin, the Vulva and the Holy Womb.

*

We search for meaning and we think we find the answer.

These lives of ours is a great stumble and tumble towards the grave; a great wide chasm between birth and death that has to be filled with something. The eternal search for meaning is a confounding spectacle of weirdness. The meaning of life, I think, is not found. Nor is it meant to be found. It is permanently sought; life being more about the journey than any conclusion. Considering that the conclusion to life is death, which, in itself, makes little meaning, little sense, little of anything, there is little reason to keep searching for an answer to this age-old question. So pass the time with tiny tipsy trivialities instead, point to this and point to that to define and to explain something that is above and beyond explanation; always burying the fear of death and meaninglessness beneath layers of problems created to build an illusion of answers and of meaning. Then claim you have found the answer; that you have found meaning in that which is absurd and meaningless.

Life.

Consciousness.

Meaning.

Seeking answers in the meaningless is, quite literally, meaningless.

This is, obviously, not to say that one can not have meaning, goals and things of that nature in ones own life. Of course one can. To claim, however, that there is some overarching answer to the massive spectacle of life that is easily broken down into black/white good/evil and so forth and so on builds a fantasy upon which one can do little but point fingers and proclaim that all must live as oneself does and believe and act accordingly.

Humanity are, to my insomniac eyes, exemplary and fantastic in this regard, in this grand quest for answers where there is no meaning. For we are blessed with consciousness and curious curiosity, with an urge to seek and to explain the why, the what, the wherefore and whereto.

I consider this inquisitiveness, this curiosity to be one of the greatest traits of humanity. Don’t get me wrong.

The problem lies not in the ones who seek, but in the ones who claim to have the answer and, as such, the solution beyond any flicker of a doubt. People of that nature are so often blinded by their belief to such an extent that they do not consider other points of view. Minds that are shut down, that are closed forever to outside influence because they claim to have the one and only answer. As such, there is no need for further questions. In particular when their own convictions and beliefs are questioned. This is fanaticism 101. And a strong and determined stumble towards doom.

I am not the first, nor will I be the last, to make strong comparisons between religion and the victim-cult that is feminism. Other people, far more brilliant and insightful than myself, have made this claim already.

…And it is easy to see why.

Now, I would like to make it perfectly clear that this is not an attack on religion on my part. My issue lies not in what people personally believe. Nor does it lie with religion. My issue lies with people who demand that everyone who does not believe as they believe, who does not believe as fervently and blindly as they believe, must be forced to believe as they believe.

It all boils down to belief, as nothing these people state can be proven. And when disproven they still cling to their beliefs as though their beliefs are the only thing that brings any meaning or joy to their lives. As though their entire world would tumble and crumble were they to change their views. Or even question their views. In part, I suppose, this is because their entire identity is built around this one label, this one world-view in which the world is built upon smouldering ruins, ash and dust.

The bothering part of this way of thinking comes when people are so driven by their blindness that they aim to impose – with force – their meaning upon others. That they chose, willingly, to assault, harangue, harass and otherwise bully people into compliance, into conforming to their meaning, their path, their God and chosen destiny as though there is no other variables, no other path, no other meaning to be sought. People who claim to have all the answers are wilfully blind and should be stripped of their titles and their pride. They should be re-located to pig-farms or something of that nature, to leave the podium open to people who are humble enough to admit that they do not know with certainty, but they have an idea and would you please consider it, thank you very much.

Feminism is a secular religion.

It has its own canon of anointed saints. It has its own dogmas and rules and regulations. Its own scriptures and weird effigies. It has myths that will not die, despite being debunked time and again, despite being proven to be wrong. It is built around the belief that women are the chosen tribe, and that men are both God and the Devil; the ones responsible for all the evils of the world as well as being the ones meant to fix it all.

Women, in the eyes of feminism, are good for nothing but being slaves, permanently downtrodden and oppressed no matter what they do. And no matter what is done to ease the path women as a group walk through life, feminism will mumble and grumble and complain that it is not good enough. Because how could it be?

How can anything be good enough for the chosen tribe?

They are, after all, the chosen, and so they deserve anything, no matter how ridiculous. And it is men that must do for them, as men are God and the Devil. Women are but mere humans – an elevated tribe of humanity, perhaps, but human beings after all, no more capable or culpable than ants in an anthill. Whereas men are capable of all, and so must use this capability to ease the path women have to walk, poor wretches that they are. Women are, by the insistence of feminism, naught but humble servants, capable only of submitting to the actions of wicked men, hidden behind the obscenely obtuse God-Devil dichotomy that is the “patriarchy”. God works in mysterious ways, and so, even when doing good, it could be considered bad. And the Devil is a tempting and alluring son-of-a-bitch, and his temptations are difficult to resist for anyone, man or woman.

One need look no further than the words and deeds of feminism when faced with a woman so bold as to proclaim that she is in fact not oppressed, nor does she fear or detest men as a whole, to see the beast unveiled. They reach firmly and deeply into their bag of tricks to explain to her why she is wrong, that she is in fact oppressed and can not do what men can do, can not reach the heights that men reach for being held down for her gender and naught but her gender, so help me Dworkin! If she does not consider herself oppressed, feminism will do all that they can to make sure that she sees herself as oppressed. Even disregarding her lived experience, despite the importance feminism places upon lived experience, to disprove her. For feminism holds the answer.

And the answer to their wretched lives and inner turmoil is that they are not responsible for it. They carry the brunt and the burden of womanhood, which must be celebrated and detested in equal measure; which must be hoisted high above the gloomy reality of the world and must see no evil, hear no evil, feel no evil; which can do no evil, speak no evil and so forth and so on. It is the patriarchy making her believe she is not oppressed; that her choices and actions are her own and not those of the patriarchy. If she would only welcome the light of feminism into her heart and soul, she would see how oppressed she is. Her eyes will open to the realities of her slave-existence, and she will recoil in horror and let them baptize her in period-blood and see herself as one of the chosen tribe, put on earth to suffer such hardships at the hands of the patriarchy that she actually believe that her choices are her own and not driven by the nebulous hands of the Patriarchy, all-knowing, all-seeing, all-devouring that it is.

The devil made her do it, in other words.

And to repent for her sins, she must accept into her heart the shining light of feminism.

She must eat the cracker of communion baked with vaginal yeast; drink the period-blood of their saviour presented her and celebrate her vagina and her vulva and her womb as her own divinity and divine grace; her only saving grace, in fact.

Hell; they even have pussy-hats; a curiously non-obscene obscenity to wear as symbols of their tribe and truth and path and what-have-you. Just as a whole host of other religions wear headgear as a signifier of their faith.

Setting this female-centric and culturally dominant secular religion alongside the gynocentrism in our species – the biological reality that women are more important than men are for the continuation of the species – and you have yourself a secular religion driven as much by the primitive reptilian brain as it is by popular vote; that one must protect women – and children – above all, if this whole meaningless drivel of existence is to be driven forward. In protecting women the way that we tend to do, we accept and tolerate far more venom and vile and spite and wickedness from women than we do from men.

Feminism even goes so far as to insist that it is the other way around!

Because they do not live in reality, but in myths, legends, fairy-tales and fantasies. So, when feminism and its cohorts claim that men are all evil, all contributors to the nonsensical “rape-culture”, all guilty of oppressing women, we cave in and we apologize and we crawl on our bellies to beg forgiveness and swear to do all that we can to alleviate the burden of women. For a chance of procreation. Even if that means blatantly discriminating against men; even if that means blatantly hating and shaming all men for being men; even if that means placing all responsibilities on men for everything bad. And stripping men of the honour for anything good.

We do this, instead of calling it out for the bigoted, nonsensical, hateful and dishonest screech, vomit and noxious waste that it is. Because this society just hates women so-so-so much that we bow our heads and necks in silent submission and acceptance and allow this, that and the other from women which we would not tolerate from men. Because this society so hates women that we have allowed the female-centric cult of feminism to dominate the cultural narrative for the past sixty years or so; demanding all men apologize profusely and pave the road in front of women with rose-petals, gold and diamonds of the rarest and bloodiest sort.

And it is never good enough.

And the nonsensical screech never ends.

For now, the lines in front of women’s toilets are too long. And this is the fault of men. Blame men, then, blame the patriarchy, instead of spending less time on the toilet.

For now, the air-conditioning in office spaces are too cold for women, and this is the fault of men. Despite women’s dress-codes in these places allowing for far lighter and cooler clothing than the dress-codes do for men.

For now, in case of divorce, a proposed default 50/50 shared parenting is somehow a step back for women. This despite feminism claiming that mothers are the default winners of custody because of patriarchy hating women.

For now, women should not have to suffer imprisonment if they have committed heinous crimes. Men should still have to suffer this, of course.

For now, any accusation of rape must be believed at once and not investigated, thus removing the presumption of innocence, removing the need for evidence, removing due process.

For now, as it always have been, men are the only ones capable of domestic violence and as such men who are victims of domestic violence at the hands of women need no support and are given no support nor belief. This despite evidence quite clearly to the contrary presented time and again.

For now, women can not rape men.

For now, women are more often victims of violence than men are, despite the opposite being true.

And on.

And on.

And on.

And still they yammer on, lost endlessly within this perplexing maze of their own design, dimly lit clitoral corridors of self-assured weakness, frailty, insecurity and lack of personal agency clothed, for some peculiar and unbelievable reason, as strength in adversity! Feminism handcrafted a monstrous being; a beast of the apocalypse, hidden behind the ever-changing concept of equality.

And that is then: equal to whom, and equal how? For true equality in how our societies both view and treat the genders would most definitely be a step down for women. Feminism built this world in which they honestly believe that men are treated superior to women; they propose solutions to problems they themselves dreamt up in silent bedsits and boudoirs, egged on by a sensation that Me myself and I have suffered this, and someone else – namely men, namely God, namely the Devil, namely the patriarchy – must be to blame. Then demanding privilege – in the truest sense of the word, being: “private law” – for them being women and that is all there is to it.

Gripped by the religious fervour and blind submission to faith that one can only find in the most frightfully self-assured believers in myths and legends, in unproven and disproven claims that still persist, they still persist in claiming to hold the answer. And that answer is quite simple: we must do all we can to help women. With the other side of the coin of course stating that we need not help men. For men are both God and the Devil, not the chosen tribe, not even human. And in the midst of it all, in all the chaos and spectacle and noise and confusion, the question and the quest are both forgotten to those who claim to have the answer.

 – Moiret Allegiere, 29.06.2019

 – Please like, share and subscribe.

____________________________________________________________________________________________

links:

Redbubble shop: https://www.redbubble.com/people/Moiret/shop

Visit my blog: https://moiretallegiere.wordpress.com/

Check out my youtubechannel: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC3IaCxAXE3pQd7PCdvHoaaA

Check out my bitchutechannel: https://www.bitchute.com/channel/EvbGZyTZSraY/

twatter: https://twitter.com/MAllegiere

Gab: https://gab.com/Moiret_Allegiere

Minds: https://www.minds.com/Moiret

Flickr: https://www.flickr.com/people/152465815@N04/