Why I am an Anti-Feminist, Part 17. The End/sort of a conclusion:

«4 horsekins of the Wah-pocalypse #1: War»

I would dare, if I would only be so bold as to regurgitate the language of the social justice warrior hive-mind, to claim that feminism is, strictly speaking, Andro-phobic.

I would also dare say that any other movement – no matter which movement – that any other -ism – no matter which -ism – would be scrutinized, vilified and rejected by the mainstream if only one of their thought-leaders had stated that one must reduce – and maintain – this or that segment of the population to 10 percent of the population.

This was stated by a prominent feminist of no small significance. Sally Miller Gearhardt, in fact. As mentioned time and again.

She helped found gender studies.

Which is still taught in universities today.

She stated this about men; that men must be reduced to, and maintained, at about 10 percent of the population. The future, if there is one, is female.

Oddly enough, this has been decided to not reflect feminism as feminism is… she was not, despite co-founding the very feminist gender studies, a true feminist. Or it is just hyperbole. Or it is just a thought-experiment. Or it is this or it is that or it is the other. It is everything and all, except raw, searing hatred of one easily identifiable identity-group. Yet, she is not a real feminist. No real feminist would ever be a feminist thought-leader of such significance, nor would they co-found feminist studies or write feminist books. Only a false feminist would do so. More like than not, she was planted by the patriarchy in order to tear down the reputation of feminism. Lucky for the feminists that this obvious patriarchy false-flag operation did not work, as they still hold all this sway and influence…

I mean, I don’t want to get too sarcastic, but god-damn, if that ain’t excruciatingly difficult. Particularly so when re-visiting and re-writing this piece for the fourth time, following a night where I have had three hours of sleep and being besieged by external stressors and health-issues galore. At times like these, I find myself dripping with snark, sarcasm and thinly cloaked despair. I can not tell you how many times I have seen busy bees from the feminist hive-mind state about some particularly egregious statement from some feminist or other that this is just men pretending to be feminist in order to smear the holy name of feminism. So easily dismissed; raw hatred handwaved away as being nothing. Feminism is not like that, except that it totally is. But that does not matter.

For such is the wicked whimsy of the thing: despite openly and blatantly advocating for genocide and/or incarceration and/or castration of boys and men for the horrible crime of wielding a cock, feminism is a force for good, a force for truth, a force for all the sugar and spice and everything nice in the known universe. Because of course it is, was, ever shall be.

In truth; most Nazis wanted nothing to do with the genocide-stuff; they just wanted cheap cars and better roads. This is obvious. And so, anyone who wants affordable auto-mobiles and decent roads to use said auto-mobiles on is, by definition, a national socialist. Shame that a few people ruined the image of the ideology, but that’s what happens man.

#NazismIsOnlyAboutCheapAutomobiles, for crying out loud!

…and communism just wants to share the wealth equally amongst the proletariat. Gulags does not factor into it. Besides: breadlines are of the good, for the government feeds its people. And nothing could possibly be better than that.

#BreadLinesInsteadOfQuickieMarts, for fuck sake!

Stating that men ought to be put in concentration-camps, as Julie Bindel did? Naught but a joke, of course. And it may very well have been a joke, as she claimed when confronted with the horrifying implications of such an action.

I do not for one flat-fisted second propose that we limit her right, or the right of any other feminist, to speak their minds. Far from it. Everyone – and I mean everyone, not only people whom I just so happen to agree with – should be free to speak their mind; to express themselves. Only petty tyrants, tinpot dictators and terrified state-leaders of a paranoid persuasion would wish to limit the rights of people to speak their minds.

Tyrants, of course, seem to be particularly obsessed with the notion of stability. An idea of stability that demands conformity of thought, of speech and of opinion in order to maintain said stability. Stability is the law, and it shall be enforced with whips and thongs and death and despair.

Any flapping of a butterfly-wing would cause a storm, so all butterflies must have their wings cut. The same applies to loose lips and wagging tongues. They must be cut and sewn shut.

An obvious upside to feminism preaching what feminism preaches is that it shows them for exactly what they are. It presents the ideology for precisely what it is; hatred and contempt for men and for anything masculine, wrapped in a thin layer of gauze whereupon the word “equality” is written, either with a ballpoint-pen or the terrifyingly oppressive tool of the patriarchy known as lipstick. Of course, the gauze needs to be changed just about every day, otherwise the festering wounds underneath would become necrotic and smell a bit weird, quite possibly infected with maggots and other nastiness. And we can’t have that. Not that the wounds need to be cleaned, of course – no saline solution here, buddy-boy. Just a new dressing and we’re good to go. Maggots are known to eat necrotic tissue anyway, so there should be no problems there. Just a few more days of this, and they will bring out the leeches to give a good ol-fashioned leeching. And then we are on easy street. What’s a little gangrene, a slight amputation or two, maybe some sepsis, on the long and winding road towards equality? We all have to make sacrifices, buddy.

I would also dare make the claim that anyone who wishes to suppress the ability of their ideological opponents to speak in opposition, labelling it hate-speech or any other fancy new new-speak fancy, does not have any rhetorical legs to stand on, does not have any merit to their cause. It should be seen as a very frightening thing indeed, this ongoing suppression of free speech, whether they come from feminism on its own, or from the social justice warrior hive-mind. More frightening, of course, than the hordes that call for this or for that to be illegal to speak or think, are the governments implementing it. It has been building so slowly, and has been, and is being hidden behind the hollow buzzwords of kindness, inclusivity, tolerance and altruism so that people just accept. Until they come for them. Of course.

However – my free speech fundamentalism aside – if one should make a quip about women, such as Bindel did about men, particularly so when being in any position of authority, I doubt it would go all that well.

Men have lost their jobs for saying far less offensive things that are far more obviously jokes.

Yet all women everywhere are oppressed and all men everywhere are their oppressors, feminism is an underdog and the patriarchy is the establishment. Which is peculiar, considering the awesome might and influence of feminism. Though, of course, this does not matter when one has been trained from childhood to see things that aren’t really there and not see the things that are really there. And that is what we have been. Spoon-fed feminist dogma until there is nothing left but feminist dogma and feminist storm-troopers, feminist action and feminist all. Go out into the world and multiply, be fruitful, be many, and take part in the glorious cuntural revolution, empowered daughters and neutered sons of the revolution.

Of course, there is a distinction needed to be made between one individual who self-labels as a feminist, and the ideology of feminism. Critique of the ideology of feminism is not, at least when I myself rant, rave and ramble on the ideology of feminism, an attack on any one individual feminist – except when stated otherwise. I am, as of yet, not so myopic in my view of things to believe that every individual feminist is a bad person.

Far from it, in fact.

I consider individual feminists as individuals, judging them on their behaviour and conduct just as I would any other individual. It is excruciatingly simple to fall into a trap and think that anyone who is a follower of this or of that -ism behaves in this or in that manner.

Now, it is clear to me that subscribing to any ideology necessarily must mean that one agrees with quite a lot of the ideas the -ism is wrapped up in. This, I believe, goes without saying.

However; considering how heavy the hand has been that has stuffed this ideology down our throats from childhood-on as only being about equality between the sexes (or genders, as these two seem to be interchangeable or not interchangeable, depending on the whims of the frail and frantic forces of feminism), it is not a far stretch of the imagination to state that most everyone is, in one way or another, a feminist by default.

A fair amount of feminist ideas – as feminism has been presented, not as it is in actuality – will be present in the thoughts, observations and behaviours of the better part of my generation. Of this I am certain.

This, I believe, may very well be what causes a lot of the “not real feminism”-shill-shit. When not shown for what it truly is, but presented as a force for supreme good, supreme equality, supreme whatever and what-not, it is not all that strange that people roar, scream, bellow or whisper that no true Scotsman would ever have sugar on his porridge, and other similar fallacies.

Even if not a feminist activist, even if not necessarily wearing the feminist label on their sleeves, the ideas, ideals and ideology of feminism will very much be present. Again, as feminism has been falsely presented, not as feminism actually is. Stating that, you are a feminist if you believe the sexes should have equal rights is just as stupid and nonsensical as stating that you are a Catholic if you believe in God. Catholics believe in God, and so everyone who believes in God is by definition a Catholic.

This results in the stupendous arrogance and stupidity of statements such as “one is either a feminist or one is a sexist”, and a whole slew of other nonsense, each more poopy-headed than the last.

I suspect this to be the reason for feminism being as well guarded and protected as it is. Any criticism, any negativity spoken about feminism will be met with the tried and true formula of “those are not real feminists”, or similar simpering sentiments. As if feminism is the only force, the only idea, the only whatever one can subscribe to if one truly wanted the sexes to be treated equally and seen in an equal light.

This is how it has been presented through a steady drip-feeding in schools and in politics and in every bloody thing there is of any mass-consumed media, any mass-consumed anything. Only equality. If you believe in equality, you are a feminist. And if you believe in God, you are a Catholic. If you don’t believe in God, you are shit out of luck.

In the holy shining light of feminism, equality necessarily comes to mean that the needs of boys and men must be neglected for the good of the needs of girls and women. After all, if men have had it all for so long, it stands to reason that men must give a piece of their patriarchy-pudding so that women shall receive a greater piece of said pudding. Equality of opportunity is well past its sell-by date. Equality of outcome is the next big stumble forward toward a society that is completely equal in all but execution. When feminism speak about “equality”, it is not a traditional, not the classical liberal approach to equality they refer to. Quite the opposite. Equality of outcome can never come about if there is only equality of opportunity. It must be engineered through quotas and maintained under threats of punishment by law if not adhered to, if not implemented. They have been quite crafty, very clever and excruciatingly sneaky in changing the definition of words. Good, decent words that most everyone will agree are of the good. People should be treated equally, no matter the random chances of their birth. Yet, being treated equally does not mean that we are the same.

As such, the outcomes would not be the same. Different people make different choices and walk different paths through life. There is nothing wrong with this, excepting to those who believe that any difference (where men come out on top; the inverse does not apply) is some form or other of discrimination. And to the holy church of feminism, everything is discrimination if it can be painted in that light and presented in that manner. That is to say: if there are less women here or there, it has got to be discrimination. After all, we are all exactly the same and would, were it not for the terrible hand of society and of the culture, chose exactly the same. Biologists, neurologists, the psych-ev guys and various other that disagree on the basis of concrete facts and findings be damned, for the dominant ideology hath spoken through the soft science of dubious sociology, and the dominant ideology is exactly that – dominant. And dubious. Just like the catholic church of medieval times, the feminist church see no qualms in swooping in to hunt down the heretics and place them in laughingstocks. Nor do they see any qualms in burning the witches or chasing them out of broader society. They are, after all, the enemy and so frightfully dehumanized by now as to be of no consequence and even less matter.

It has become even worse after the rise of social media. Digital witch-hunts are all the rage. And all the outrage, if a feminist should happen to land at the bottom of a dog-pile. Though feminism see no qualms in dog-piling their opponents. Their opponents are othered to a frightful degree. Feminism can not handle their own tactics nor rules of conduct. One rule for me, another for thee. The plebs and peasants do not talk back to the aristocracy.

The people on the other side of the screen with whom one disagrees are even less people than if one were to see them in real life. Add to that the relative anonymity offered, and there are no limits to the wickedness, the viciousness, the ad-hominems, the smears and lies. The ease with which people are dehumanized and attacked through social media is truly terrifying, and greater proof of a society in which empathy is dwindling and compassion a lost art is hard to find.

Now, of course, this is based on observations through social media. Real life is a different story, to be sure, and real life social interactions do tend to be a bit more civil than all that. Yet, there is more than enough viciousness captured on film for all the world to see in the real world as well, fuck-face.

The western world seem to be spiralling into a society of obscene lack of empathy; a solipsist nightmare where narcissism and egotism is clothed and presented as compassion and a fight for the greater good – whatever the hell the greater good may be. A virtue-signalling hellhole where everyone wants to be seen as a morally superior being, despite acting in severely amoral ways. Empty words are merely empty words. People ought to be judged by their actions, not their words. “I am a good, moral, decent person!” states the one who beats another over the head with a bikelock, assuming he shall neither be punished nor attacked in kind.

This idea, this thought-virus, of the oppressed women and the privileged men has burrowed into the collective consciousness, where it has been allowed to nest, brood and lay eggs to further its colony, occupying minds and thoughts here and there and everywhere, creating further resentment and animosity between the sexes – whether completely conscious on part of the sexes or not. What the end-goal of feminism is seems to be very difficult to say, beyond the gaseous and constantly fluctuating term “equality”. This means absolutely nothing, when nothing is clearly defined.

Particularly so when the current year feminists oppose a lot of what was done and said by the prior current year feminists.

Or, well, it certainly appears that this is the case. Though I admit that I hardly believe so. At the end of the day, it seems to me that feminism is a perpetual motion machine; a machine that must keep itself going in order to keep itself going. Feeding on and off and into itself in perpetuity, to keep going for the sake of itself and nothing but itself.

Though, of course, I admit to an increasing sense of cynicism towards the whole kerfluffle that is western society as it stands today. Not nihilism, but cynicism and brooding pessimism. This does, obviously, taint my view of things.

A wise course of action, to my bloodshot insomniac eyes, would be to stop the bloody group-think, stop messing around with maladjusted identity politics and the victim-hierarchy which we for some reason give so much credence to.

This god-damned victim-hierarchy is nothing but strength in perceived weakness; a flat-lining tactic of emotional manipulation wherein it is stated that I am a victim of this, and so I must receive compensation in form of that. And one is constantly more victimized than the other, and the other must be even more victimized than the one to gain even more of that sweet – super-sweet – sweet and luscious victim-currency. And the whole bloody thing eats itself, splintering off into smaller and smaller identity-groups, smaller and smaller victim-cults, where white feminist women need to shut up and not speak because black feminist women need to be heard first and foremost.

But what about the transexuals, what about the gays, what about the lesbians and the pansexuals and the transcendentally identifying polymorph redemption-sexes, the otherkins and the blatherkins and the sluts and the frigid and the nymphomaniacs and the disabled?

Men, as per usual, need not apply. Everyone must be heard before men are heard. Whether gay or straight; men come last and latest in the victim-olympics. Which is fair enough, as these things go, because no-one in their right mind should wish to be perceived as a victim first and foremost, with weakness and frailty as their greatest strength, as the biggest part of their identity. Yet: men do struggle and do suffer as a group. Quite severely. And this is not an allowed topic. Except from feminism, who either blames men for it, or claims that men have no issues, often going so far as to laughing and ridiculing the high rates of male suicide, for example.

Yet the question remain: how far down the pyramid does one need to go before the pyramid topples over and crumbles into ruin? And is it a planned collapse, a nefariously thought out and well executed plan to bring down the entirety of western civilization? Some claim so. And some claim otherwise. This gets to be too big for me, in all honesty.

One thing is for certain, however, and that is the feminist war against the nuclear family; the tearing down of the traditional family unit. Which they have, in no small way, succeeded in doing. And which they also brag about, as seen in – at least the trailer for – the documentary “feminism – what were they thinking?” In tearing down the family unit, much of what was the stability, the foundation upon which western civilization rested is eroded, slowly. Bit by bit.

And here I must mention that I do not necessarily speak in favour of traditional gender-roles. For my part, I don’t much care who does what job, who fills what role. Husband at home or wife at home, male partner at home or female partner at home. I don’t much care about that. I care that the family is intact – that children grow up with two parents present and with two parents caring, working, interacting and supporting one another, their children and the entirety of the family unit. In the fight for so-called female liberation, it seems we forgot to give a toss about the children. And we pushed fathers out of the picture completely as being absolutely unnecessary in the lives of their children, except as an open wallet, a source of money, not as a parent or a guardian.

A return to traditionalism is not on my agenda, for sure. Though I admit that I believe there are some merits to traditionalism, insofar as it has worked and did work very well in the past. But times have changed, technology has changed… just about every thing has changed. And one would do well to go with the flow to a certain extent, I believe. To rid oneself of expectations and instead do as one wishes to do, to make those choices one wishes to make. Whether male or female. Which, based on both observation and statistics and surveys and what-not and whatever appears to be a traditional dance for the most part, with outliers here and there. This does suggest, as so often has been suggested before, that there is a biological component to our gender-roles that will not be stripped away or washed away by any amount of social engineering. Most everything has changed since traditionalism was in vogue, as it were, excepting – apparently – humanity and human nature.

Now, feminism claims to want to eradicate traditional gender-roles. This, however, only goes for traditionally female gender-roles. Men are still expected to provide and to protect. Men must step down, step aside, step left, step right, put their left hand in, their right hand in and so forth and so on in order to help and support women. Men must – according to the whimsical will of feminism – drop everything in order to protect women, should the need arise. That is just expected. Most men are willing to do so, as this capacity for self-sacrifice, the provide and protect role, appears to be a part of our better nature. Though it is very much expected and demanded, not only from feminism, but from society at large, there is little to no celebration of this aspect of masculinity, no gratitude and no respect offered. Merely an entitled attitude that this is par-for-the-course, and we are complete and utter arseholes filled to the brim with toxic masculinity if we do not comply. Now, of course, men are complete and utter arseholes filled to the brim with toxic masculinity no matter what we do, as the pounding and pummelling propaganda-machine of the perpetual gender-war states as much, time and again. This is the message chug-a-lugged into the dry and desperate throats of society, the infection racing through its central nervous system. Men must always do for women, and it is never good enough, and so men must ever strive to do more. Reaching for greatness, as it were, yet missing every time and falling flat on our haemorrhoids to be pile-driven into a state of universal shame each and every time we reach and miss. For the process to be repeated ad infinitum. Women, on the other hand, do not need to do diddly squat for men. To propose otherwise would be an act of grave soggy knees.

For men, it would be far easier, far better, safer and saner to check out and never return. When one is met with headlines such as the one from BBC, with a publishing company proudly and loudly proclaiming that they will only publish female authors in 2018, it is not too difficult for boys and men to think that society itself is stacked against them. Such blatant discrimination based solely on sex is encouraged and celebrated, as long as the discrimination favours women. Very interesting tactic, to be sure. It does not matter whether the book submitted to the publishing company is good or not. It matters whether the book is written by a woman or not. Through the magic and wonder of new-speak, this is not gendered discrimination. This is equality. For it favours women, and so it is pure and decent and good and true. To hell with quality and merit. And to hell with equal treatment of the sexes. Welcome, my friends, to the holy cult of the vulva. Ia, Ia Vulvuthu Fhtagn!

…and all the cultists are insane, stumbling through non-euclidean labyrinths where nothing means what it is supposed to mean, where nothing is easily understood and absolutely nothing that men do could ever possibly be good enough.

By focusing solely on building up girls and propping up women, our dismal societies spawned a generation of lost boys. A generation of boys and young men who has never encountered a single bloody encouraging word – to paraphrase Jordan Peterson. Instead, being told that they are patriarchal oppressors, that they are rapists-in-waiting, violent and stupid thugs. We told an entire generation of boys and men that there is something wrong with them solely by virtue of their birth; that their core nature is wrong and must be re-programmed, re-engineered, re-modelled to fit the present image of masculinity; that masculinity is not inherent to them, but something toxic and destructive crafted by the dread patriarchy which somehow both benefits and destroys them in equal measure. Not that this matters, of course, because it hurts women and girls most of all, and so it is for the cause of saving women and girls from the horrible hands and swinging cocks of boys and men that men and boys must be remodelled to fit the new mould of masculinity. That is a new model of masculinity which is more or less the same as it has always been, only with added emphasis on protecting, providing and sacrificing for girls and women. No thought present in actuality for the well-being of boys and men. It is present in theory, of course. Yet, that is merely in theory. Empty words from the bleeding gums of feminism so as to appear to care for and be of help to both sexes.

Dig but a little beneath the shining veneer, and the rust and decay becomes evident.

Hollow platitudes and white noise, beautiful words straight from the mouths of masterful used-car salespeople of undefinable sex.

Gender means nothing but the feminine, sex means nothing but women and men have come to be seen as defective women; emotional cripples, morally bankrupt actors, violent brutes with no thought besides the purely instinctual. Every act done by a man can easily, through manipulation of language and emotion, be contorted into being done as an act against women. I can hardly imagine anything more self-obsessed, more egotistical and dumb-strikingly crazy than believing oneself to be the centre of the universe. Yet that is what feminism proves itself to think where women are concerned, when every single act and action is perceived as either being done as an attack against women for naught but them being women, or demanded to be done in order to somehow help women for naught but them being women. Sex does not matter, except that it does whenever, wherever, all the time and everywhere. You can usually see that sex matters in everything by noticing that whatever happens wherever it happens can be turned, twisted and malformed into being about something-something women most affected, here’s how we can end it in order to help women. Even if men are the ones most affected.

Despite the bleakness of my writings, my growing pessimism and increasing cynicism, I do in fact have hope. I believe that the tides are turning. If not politically or academically, then at the very least amongst the population at large. Despite feminism wriggling its way into the collective consciousness as the only force fighting for equality, the number of people self-identifying as feminist is in decline. The more feminism pushes for increasingly unjustifiable goals in the name of hallowed equality, the more people will notice it and turn away from it, either dismissing it apathetically or opposing it actively. Ideologically, it appears to be at the top of the pyramid – or, it appears to be the eye in the pyramid.

However, it seems to be caught in an act of auto-cannibalism, or else infected by a flesh-eating virus. For it is so self-contradictory as to be unsustainable in the long term. Most people are reasonable people. This is something I am completely certain of. Reasonable people, I believe, can not help but notice the self-contradiction, the tyranny and the raw, searing hatred present in the ideology. When push comes to shove and time comes into itself, the tyrant will – the tyrant must – fall. Or else all will collapse. Men and women are complimentary; we are made for each other. The one is not made for the other, nor is the other created for the one. The two are made for one another. To paraphrase Camille Paglia; there can never be a war between the sexes. There’s just too much fraternizing with the enemy. And this is true. The relationship between the sexes is one to be built on mutual respect, mutual sacrifice. It has to be, otherwise, there is nothing to it.

If one part of a relationship is expected to give and to sacrifice all and everything, and the other part is expected to get and to receive all and everything, there is simply no reason to be engaged in a relationship. Then – it is better to check out completely, not only out of relationships, but society itself. And that is what is happening. More and more men – primarily young-ish men are checking out and dropping out completely.

Apparently, as seen in a slew of articles, to the detriment of women who are so bold, so absurdly cheeky, as to complain that there are too few men of higher education of or high enough status to engage in a relationship with, and to marry.

Men drop out, women most affected.


Very gynocentric, clearly presented with no thought or empathy as to why men check out and drop out such as this. Which is bothersome all on its own, as it is a god-damned bitch and a bastard to constantly witness this absurd gynocentrism, this awful notion that, no matter what happens, it does not matter unless it affects women in a negative manner.

Yet, this can be used to the benefit of the very loosely knit men’s rights movement. It seems as though nothing will change if it does not negatively affect women. Or if it can be presented to negatively affect women. And I am not yet so far gone in my pessimism that I have taken the black pill, though I have my moments of silent despair and desperation where I lick at it as tenderly as I would lick the insides of my eyelids. That is to say: I believe change, a positive change, is possible. “Victory” in this nonsensical, this eternally manufactured and chronically perpetuated stupidity that is the war of the sexes will not be won in the trenches. This is not to say that I do not believe in the importance of raising awareness for the issues predominantly affecting men, nor is it to say that I believe that what men’s rights advocates do is futile. Far from it – I consider it to be very important. Or I would not be doing what I do, personal cost be damned. Spreading the proverbial red pill, poisoning the well with it, so to speak, is a fantastic thing, a noble thing, in fact.

Yet, checking out, tuning out, letting society run its course whilst sitting at a distance laughing at the absurdity is a clever tactic. It is, if you will allow, the path of non-violent resistance. The social game has become so rigged against men, so stacked against us that it is better to not play it at all than it is to try navigating the rules, with all their pitfalls, endless addendum’s and nonsensical sidesteps. When the frail and frantic forces of feminism state that firms must take care so that men do not talk about football at work so as not to exclude the poor and fragile maidens of incessant frailty from workplace chatter – after all, it is only a short step from talking about football to talking about sexual conquests over the weekend (men, of course, being only able to talk about two things; sports or sex, and women never talking about either) – the stupidity, the authoritarian, the stupidly authoritarian streak of feminism makes itself seen and known so clearly and so brightly that it should not be too difficult to dismiss it as trivial whinging. As long as it is something men in general do, it is bad and it must be ended. For the poor women can not expect to exist as long as men talk amongst themselves about something not approved of by women in general. Herp. Derp. Honk. Honk. Men can not behave themselves unless a woman watches over them as some sort of smothering mother. Men must act and speak only in a way approved of by women, and only by talking about topics approved of by women. This is obviously not reasonable.

Why should men wish to partake in a culture so hostile to them that it grants itself the right to dictate the discourse amongst them? Why should men wish to take part in a society so hell-bent on their destruction that mainstream news outlets attack them for everything and nothing, with acceptance and celebrations from mainstream culture; so celebratory of their failures that it shamelessly makes the statement that “men are obsolete”?

There is little to gain from taking part. And much to loose from taking part. When the one struggle, the whole suffer. When the one is cast out – as is happening with men – the whole will collapse. Particularly so when all the grubby, dirty, dangerous and – most importantly of all – unseen background-work; the sewage work, the garbage collecting, and so and such… all those low-status, yet highly important professions that are filled with men will be struggling as men check out. There is little to no push from feminism to have female representation in these fields. Nope; the high-status jobs are important, the low-status ones are not. Despite the low-status jobs being incredibly important to the infrastructure of society. A day without men would be a thing to behold. Luckily, men are not so privileged as to be able to take a day off work simply to protest their lack of privilege.

I picture, in vivid detail, a men’s march… thousands of men marching around with hats resembling flopping hard-ons or giant, wobbly nutsacks… speakers quite blatantly stating that women are the enemy… all women everywhere… threatening to blow up this or that house of government… all with impunity, all with mass-celebrations, all whilst being taken seriously… despite wearing fucking genitalia-hats on their heads and shrieking in high-pitched hysterics that “I am a NASTY MAN!”, shrieking incoherently about their infallible state of oppression. All whilst being privileged enough to take a day off work to act like complete and utter twats. Somehow, I doubt it would fly.

Never underestimate the stupidity of a mob high on self-righteousness and morbid mass-hysteria. And a culture that enables said twattery, self-righteousness and feeds the bloody mass-hysteria. Apparently, men have too much dignity for such an action. Or, you know, the capacity for reason and logic which so clearly are lacking in the frontal or temporal lobes (or wherever it fucking resides) of any given feminist at any given day. Ho-ho-ho.

Now, now, Moiret, there, there, calm down: them’s fightin’ words. And so is stating that all men are the enemy. And so is stating that all men should be killed. Difference being: my rambling, ranting and raving writings attack an ideology, not a sex nor a gender. There is a clear distinction there. Not that this matters, of course. I have understood this full well. Attacking men for naught but their sex is A-OK, but attacking the ideology of feminism is not. Celebrated and held forth, as it is, as the shining beacon in the night, the guiding light, the this and that. Enabled by crack-head culture, snowflake society, pungent politicians, succubi schools and meth-addicted mass-media pundits never shying away from jumping on the current trend for cheap clicks, cheap tricks and cheaper slaps to the ballsack still. Why, in all the marvels of the world, should one willingly take part in this nonsense, where nothing means anything and everything and nothing has to be filtered through some cosmic-horror-lens of feminist dogma before being spoken, thought or considered at the highest level of government? Why should one willingly take part in the celebration of one sex at the cost of neglecting the other, experiencing a constant flow of laws and rules and regulations inspired directly by disjointed feminist directives?

Lying flat, prostate, at the feet of the altar of the holy vulva, men have been taught and told to self-flagellate to make amends for past perceived sins not even perpetrated by them. It is the sins of the fathers that will be visited upon the son. Seven generations down the line. For men are obsolete, the feminist hive-mind state, blood dribbling from their smirks, powdered noses turned sky-high, hair dyed the colour of danger and of toxicity flapping in the gentle breeze of the non-patriarchal future, chanting fuck-face mantras and swishing their beautiful bingo-wings to create a chaos-storm on the surface of the slutwalk-moon. The future is female, after all. At least until something heavy needs to be lifted and/or moved. At least until a pickle-jar needs to be unscrewed, at least until someone needs to be hauled out from underneath a burning car, at least until the sewage system blocks up. You get my drift.

But, in order to get back on track – never-minding for the moment how incredibly fun it is to go off the rails for a decent rant – and to see if I may wrap this roguish ramble into a neat and nifty bow: despite the quite angry, confrontational and, I will admit, often mean tone in my writings, ravings, rants and rambles, I am fairly mild-mannered in real life. I tend to speak very gently. At the very least when being around people whom I do not know all that well.

This may very well be due to me being so highly introverted, so shy and reserved that I have almost forgotten how to speak to people. This gets me labelled, more often than not, as a bit of a pushover. Which is quite contrary to the fact of the matter. I just can’t be bothered to fight or argue, either verbally or physically, with random strangers. This goes for the internet as well. I consider it a waste of time and energy which I would much rather spend doing something I enjoy. Which, amongst other things, is writing, drinking coffee and listening to music.

As such, a huge part of my writings may very well be a strange manifestation of my ID, a way to channel all the rough, instinctual, spontaneous, angry, etcetera, responses I might otherwise have let loose when confronted, as I often am, with the wrath and trembling ire of feminism the moment I poke my growing skullet and magnificent beard outside. A man can not even sit and have a quiet beer with his wife and a buddy without being harassed and accosted by feminist insanity, accusing him of oppressing his wife for daring to discuss something with his buddy instead of his wife. How does one respond to such monumental stupidity, other than by ignoring it in the moment? It really ain’t worth the bother. To an ideologically possessed feminist, no matter ones response, it somehow proves their point. For these people are masters of the subtle art of mental gymnastics. Anything you say or do will be twisted, turned and used against you. No matter how reasonable, it is proof of their point, stance and victim-complex. Better, then, to remember these instances, go home and then write about it, tell the story and get on with things.

I often quip that I began writing on the topics of men’s rights and feminism because it was either that or clinical insanity. This is only partially a joke.

See; I happen to be simultaneously cursed and blessed with a fantastic long-term memory. My short-term memory is not as good as it ought to be, that’s for damned sure. But my long-term memory is. Probably for reasons of some poorly treated PTSD. This, unavoidably, means that I remember happenings from long, long ago with very little problem and in much detail. Even if I had been drinking at that point in time. Which, for a bigger part of my twenties, usually was the cause, wild party-animal as I was back in those days.

The problem with having a good long-term memory is that these old memories tend to pop up when they shouldn’t. In particular, this goes for the male-bashing, male-hating rhetoric of feminism, as this attacks, and have attacked me all my life, for my core nature – for me having the audacity to be born as a boy and develop into a man. These attacks on men, on masculinity itself and, as such, on the very nature of men – my very nature, in fact, have been coming at men in general and me, specifically, from all sides and all layers of society since my early childhood.

With enough memories of these attacks accumulated over the years, it turns out to be a damned hard task to simply push them away and forget about them. Particularly so when the memories are vivid, clear and bright as the surface of the fucking sun. It also became increasingly difficult to not internalize the message(s) that told me that I was worthless, dangerous, irresponsible… that my sexuality was flawed and my intelligence second-grade, my emotional maturation as well as how I handled my emotions wrong and flawed, if not flat-out dumb. Add to this that this message as well as the so-called logic and reasoning behind it, though largely unopposed, to me seemed to be flawed at best and downright hateful at worst, and things started cooking deep within the bowels of my festering and pestilent manhood.

Though, being beat down into cowardice, I internalized it and began believing it. In no small way, this was due to me being stupid enough to study art, seemingly never being taught much about art, but being taught much about the virtues of the female sex and feminism, as well as the cold-hearted wickedness of men. Of course, grade-school and beyond also told me the same tinkering tale, though in less “adult” language. It was internalized through a steady drip of indoctrination, until I began spouting the same rhetoric myself. In the process of doing so, I eliminated my self from myself… ground myself into dust and learned to shut up about the flaws I saw; learned to not think about, in fact. For that was what the entirety of the culture surrounding me said, and I had to be insane when thinking they were wrong and I was right.

Following a psychosis I suffered, however, as I started coming back into myself after being torn completely apart by this psychosis, I saw things as they were and always had been. For that is the thing about such a psychosis that I suffered: being the person that I am, I started digging deep into myself and my memories to figure out what brought me to that point of utter despair and desperation which culminated in that psychosis.

And in no small way, it was due to being told my entire life that there was something inherently wrong with me for being born with a cock and balls. Now, of course, there is more to the story than that. But that was the most defining feature of my life-long depression and issues with anxiety; I was, for all intents and purposes, considered completely worthless and absurdly dangerous by society at large, to such an extent that I believed it myself. Such was the way I saw it. And this had to get out of my system in some way. And so I did what I usually do, which is to write about it. So – it was either this, or it was clinical insanity. For carrying so much within is a difficult thing to do. And it must come out, in some way or other.

Funnily enough, this is me opening up and talking about my emotions. Which, apparently, is what men are supposed to do. Odd, then, that it meets with such hatred, contempt, sneers and snarls from the divine forces of feminism, which helps men too, as long as men do exactly what they wish them to do – up to and including complete self-annihilation. Men must talk about their emotions. But not like this, nor like that. It must only ever be done in a way approved of by feminism, which is for men to shut up and listen to women talk about their emotions.

Now, this way of thinking and this way of writing – the proverbial red pill – the anti-feminist stance – even merely having a view of men and masculinity that is not wholly spiteful and hateful – does isolate one from broader society in no small way. And this can be a very difficult thing for many people. This I understand perfectly well. In that way, I am very lucky to be as introverted as I am. I enjoy my own company very well, and enjoy nothing better than being alone for an evening, with a bottle of wine, perhaps a cigar, and some loud music blaring from my speakers.

I propose that checking out of broader society is the best way to go in order to combat the ideology of feminism, in order to combat the chronic male-bashing. Don’t take the feminist bait if they try to rile you up. Just ignore them, whether in real life or on twitter or wherever. Let them scream into the void, but let their words and deeds stand as proof of their words and deeds.

By all means: do write and speak on their nonsense. Do advocate for the issues of boys and men, for the humanity of boys and men. Spread the word. It is very important!

But take part in the machinery of society as little as possible. If men in truth are obsolete, then there really is no reason for men to take part in the totalitarian tango.

Focus on your hobbies and your happiness, work as little as you need to in order to be happy. It may very well be selfish, but why not be selfish? After all, men have been – at least in part – socialized into self-sacrifice.

The time may very well have come for men to be “selfish” enough as to actually put their well-being up front and centre. What a radical notion! Men caring about themselves? Well, I never! In the era of feminism, this is such a radical thought in-and-off itself that the end of the world surely must be nigh!

The more men refuse to take part, the more the whole shebang will suffer, I think.

Which will make it very evident that men are, in fact, a necessary component for the whole bloody thing to work. That men are, in fact, not obsolete. The biggest obstacle, however, is men themselves. For the self-sacrifice is not solely socialized, it is also biological. The drive to procreate drive men to prove themselves. The social “reward” of acquiring a mate is all that is needed in that regard for self-sacrifice to be a viable option.

Yet, there used to be some gratitude, some manner of respect, some manner of understanding and care for doing these things. Not so much now. It is still expected, and yet men are met with nothing but contempt, with never a kind word spoken about men in general. Just the message to do more, to sacrifice more, and so forth and so on.

Checking out, then, taking the non-violent path, as it were, the path of least resistance, becomes a very viable action, a good path to take. At the very least, it will prove a most potent and a most valid point: you can only kick someone for so long until they either lash out, or withdraw. When withdrawn, what will you do then? If – broadly speaking – half the components of a machine is missing, how in the everlasting fuck will the machine keep going with any level of functionality? When doing all that is possible in order to push someone away, one should not then be surprised when they stay away.

Keep calm in the storm, ignore the flapping bait, and carry on with your life, doing what you love and raise a proud, potent, most erect middle-finger to the whole thing. Let the ship of fools drive itself into the vortex. After all; you are obsolete. And someone who is obsolete is not needed. Then we shall see what happens when that which is obsolete goes away and proves itself to not be obsolete.

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  • Moiret Allegiere, 01.02.2020

Some of the sources and resources that inspired this lengthy series of ramblings: Pastebin sources antifeminist: https://pastebin.com/XN2mj0N0

Lonely Trainstation Blues – Poetry for the Lost Boys, Kindle: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07ZB6K2JX
Lonely Trainstation Blues – Poetry for the Lost Boys, Paperback: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1692495518

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/

Why I Am An Anti-feminist, part 16:

«One Shelf in Particular»

It is all well and good, I believe, to rail and rave and rant and ramble in opposition to feminism. At the very least, it is a fantastic cathartic experience… and exercise. Even if it may be an exercise in futility. It is very important, considering that feminism has become an incredibly powerful and influential force. This is not me being hyperbolic – it is an absurdly powerful ideology. Far beyond the confines of being a mere “movement”.

In fact, it is such a powerful and influential “movement” that it has managed to worm its way into the minds of entire generations as the only force worth a damned in the eternal quest for equality between the sexes. And so, any opposition means being opposed to the genders being treated equally. This is absolute bullshit, of course. But that does not matter. Feminism has spoken, and theirs is the only word worth a damned.

As I believe I mentioned in the beginning of this absurdly lengthy – and admittedly variable in quality – series of rambles: any ideology, any authority, that not only proposes, but demands, to be the only voice to speak on any topic is one not to be trusted to speak on that topic. Particularly so when hiding behind an -ism. That one single ideology demands a monopoly on a certain topic – and I don’t care which topic, or which ideology – should raise red flags and have alarms blaring in the minds of anyone who hears it. Subsequently, they should be dismissed as the authoritarian bullies that they are. It has come to such a point of what I can only refer to as indoctrination that everyone and anyone either proclaim themselves to be feminist, or at the very least support the proposed cause of feminism, invoking the name of feminism. After all, it is only about equality between the sexes. And how can one oppose that? One can not – most everyone agrees that people should be treated equally. People are, after all, of equal worth and of equal value.

This does appear to be the mainstream view of things. And I have absolutely no problems with that.

In fact, I agree with it.

We are of equal worth.

And we are of equal value.

This, however, does not mean that we are exactly the same.

Nor does it mean that every idea is of equal worth and of equal value. Some ideas are simply bad ideas. Bad ideologies doubly so.

For my part, I consider human rights to be of incredible importance. Human Rights is something that is ever and always to be defended and fought for. History, both current and ancient, shows how easily it is taken away from us. And how hard it is to regain once it has been lost. In fact, it shows how difficult basic human rights are to get a hold of in the first place. Lots of places are still very much lacking in that department; the notion that everyone should be treated as human beings, with liberty, bodily autonomy, freedom from persecution and so and such and yada-yada-yada is a strange notion all across the world.

Human rights, however, do in fact extend far beyond only being about women’s rights. Some of us, you see, actually care that people – not only one piece of the people-pudding, but the whole damn thing – ought to be treated properly and fairly.

Despite this, women’s rights – as waved about and serenaded by the frail and frantic forces of feminism – is the focal point of everyone and everything. Every major human rights organization, every this and every that and every other this and that puts women’s rights up front and centre. Neglecting, in the process of doing so, boys and men and their rights, their interests and their value as human beings. Because women’s human rights are far more important than men’s human rights, for some reason. So it is stated, and such it shall be.


Which is why, for example, it irks me something awful when people point to Islamic theocracies and state that “These countries need feminism!”


No they bloody don’t.

These countries need a human rights movement, not one for women and not one for men, but one for human beings. The details, I believe, can be ironed out later.

To believe that only women suffer; that the suffering of women is the most important thing to end, is to believe that only women matter. To believe that only the one matter, at the cost of neglecting the other, is a terrible thing to do. In fact, it has far-reaching negative consequences. One would assume that the “Dancing Boys” of Afghanistan, to name but one example, would deserve some compassion, empathy and liberation. Not so, of course. In the battle for human rights, only women’s rights matter. For women are an elevated human being, according to society at large – one to be saved, pampered and protected. Whereas men are not. Quite the contrary. Men are to be sacrificed and boys are to be neglected.

As of course is tradition.

Feminism has successfully duped the world into believing that women are the ones who suffer hardest, thus being the ones whose end of suffering must be prioritized, even when it comes at the expense of ending the suffering of boys and men, even daring to go so far as to claim boys and men to be privileged based solely on their sex and so their suffering is non-existent, or at the very least a suffering whose end must not be prioritized.

This sham of feminism is done to such an extent that they blatantly lie, claiming that – for example, as seen in the Bloomberg piece on the ICMI 2019 – women are the demographic most at risk for being assaulted… even when the opposite is true. Now, I don’t know whether or not the reporter in that piece is a feminist or not, but that talking point most definitely is.

Evidently, not many people care all that much, but the fact of the matter is that men experience violent assaults far more than women do. To which the usual reply from the sneering mouth of feminism is that men are assaulted by other men. So, you see, this then somehow cancels out men being assaulted the most. Sharing the same set of genitalia with ones assaulter somehow makes the assault matter less. It makes the victim less of a victim. For sharing a sex with their assaulter. This, I will have to admit, makes me break out in fits of the most sardonic laughter I can manage.




Truthfully, this proves nothing but one simple thing: men would much rather attack another man than they would ever attack a woman.

I also find it peculiar and odd, this blaming and shaming of men who are victims of violent assault from other men for no other reason than sharing a bit and two vegs with their assaulters, when neither sex nor gender matter according to the feminist hive-mind, who proudly and loudly proclaim the gender-neutral future… which just so happen to be female. (Besides; where are the ones who cry and moan about “victim-shaming” or “victim-blaming” in these instances? Nowhere to be seen, of course. After all – it is only men.)

I would much prefer the future to be everyone, but I am clearly a naive moron for disliking war-rhetoric, othering and blatant supremacy masquerading as a civil rights movement.

Herp goes the derp, yet again.

And it derps so majestically when once it has herped.

So, let me do the old switcharoo.

Consider black-on-black crime in the USA.

This is not something whites should care about.

Because it is only blacks assaulting other blacks.

And they should clean up their own mess.

Clearly, there is something wrong with blacks and how they express their blackness.

Doesn’t sound all that good, now, does it? Now, I don’t much care for playing identity-politics, but I find it stimulating to make people live by their own rules. If the rules apply to group A, they should also apply to group B. As well as any-and-all subgroups within group A, group B, group C and so forth and so on.

Also, I am anxiously awaiting someone to take the above sentence out of context and so present me as a foul-mouthed, raging, racist, misogynistic, white supremacist something or other. Which further proves my point – which is this: the truth, according to feminism, is there to be twisted and made to fit their lollygagging view of the world. No tactic is bad, no target out of reach when once it has deserved the wrath and ire of the feminist hive scorned. Consider this a pre-emptive strike against out-of-context quote-mining, which is so incredibly easy to do and even easier to counter, if people would only care to peek and look behind the mining and see the mine.

Men are the ones in power, that is to say – the ones at the top of the hierarchy is one of the supreme feminist talking point. And so all men everywhere must be the powerful class, whereas all women everywhere must be the powerless class. Which says something about feminism and its view of men as well as its view of women, none of which are favourable for either. Yet – reason has no place within the gated community safe-zone that is the eternal feminist echo-chamber. Women are so meek, so submissive, so powerless that they willingly allowed themselves to be enslaved and oppressed by men for all of history, not doing anything about it but right now.

Now, of course, referring to whichever bloody wave of feminism is currently in vogue, currently ongoing and currently twisting the truth to satisfy the drooling masters of their serpent-cult. This appears to be the view feminism holds where women are concerned. Even when women are strong and independent, they are meek, weak and in need of protection at the same time, should the need arise.

Double-plus-good, comrade. Strength is weakness, weakness is strength, freedom is slavery.

The twisting of the truth is never a bad tactic. Bad tactics don’t exist, remember. The same applies to playing the weak victim, or playing the strong hero, depending on the current state of things. The cause goes before all, and consistent values and all manner of internal consistency be damned, for there is a war to perpetuate. There must always be a war. Because war is peace.

(Also of interest, as a bit of a side-note: when feminism states that “we need more women in leadership”, or “we need to listen to the voices and experiences of women”, they only ever refer to feminist women. Not women as a group, but feminist women. Which is sly and ingenious, in its way, because this allows for them to navigate women of a certain ideological bent into positions of leaderships – that is – positions of power, where they then can implement feminist “law and order” in this and in that through wielding the power and influence that comes from whichever prestigious position they then inhabit.)

Me thinks the ladies doth neuroticize too much. A lot of the feminist rhetoric regarding men – as a group – and the behaviour of men – again, as a group – seems to stem from their own anxieties and paranoid delusions. Very likely, though admittedly only speculation on my part, born from a negative personal experience with one man, whose portrait is painted and presented to be all men by extension of his cock and metaphysical psyche-travelling toxic masculinity. Or it could just be good ol’ fashioned bigotry; this group bad, that group good, other groups – eh – somewhere in the middle.

Locking oneself up in a chamber where everyone constantly espouses the same fears, trepidations and anxieties does nothing but perpetuate and strengthen these anxieties and delusions. It becomes a Folie á Deux, a shared psychosis, cats and dogs living together, mass-hysteria.

I tend to liken the current state of feminist hysteria to the satanic panic of the late 1980’s, early 1990’s. Suddenly, everyone and their mums had been made subject to satanic child-abuse, rituals, sacrifice and God only knows what, with self-proclaimed experts in the field popping up out of the woodwork to tell everyone how deep the satanic rabbit-hole truly went. And, ye gods, how deep it went!

Everything and everyone deemed satanic, troubling, or what-not was under suspicion. And everyone and everything could possibly – and probably – be satanic, troubling and dangerous.

Even bloody Metallica, which is pretty tame as far as metal goes – despite being damned good. Well, their first few albums were damned good, then they appear to have ran out of steam and been prone for retirement for quite some time. Yet, that is besides the point. And, let’s face it, no-one wants to listen to me ramble about music. My point is – we have seen this type of behaviour before, time and again. Nothing ever changes. Not even the witch-hunts. Only the perceived victims and the perceived victimizers and their so-called enablers change. There will always be witches to burn and heretics to chase.

This is nothing new.

The subjects of scorn and social hatred, ridicule and ostracising – that is, the scape-goat(s) – change from decade to decade, but it is always the same. And it is always damaging, as far as I have understood it, to society at large. Then it tapers off, people hardly mention it again – probably out of shame – and then the process repeats.

Society needs a scape-goat.

Civilization needs someone to blame, for failing to look at itself and see where it has failed itself. It is easier to point fingers at one identifiable enemy, than it is to understand that the problems society face are far more complex than “this group bad”. That there exist, in fact, no easy solutions.

Now, looking to the top tiers of society and seeing only men (despite this not being true) does only consider the “hard power” of governmental institutions, of corporations and other such things.

This I have heard referred to as “visible power”, which seems about as good a term as any other. Simultaneously, It neglects the “soft power” of social and societal influence, the “invisible power”, which women wield and have wielded for quite some time. (Consider, for example, the following statement, as well as a whole slew of similar statements: “Behind every successful man, there is a strong woman”. Or, well, what about the women’s temperance movement stating that “lips that touch liquor shall never touch ours”.) To believe that women do not have, nor ever have had, any influence in society, any power to change society, is to look at world history through the eyes of a blind, deaf and mute foetus with a brain melting from malnutrition.

As well as being, at least in my humble opinion, quite insulting to women, it is simply not true.

Most of humanity – boys and girls, women as well as men – have lacked liberty – as we now know liberty – for most of human history. The elites have elited, and the serfs have serfed. Such as it was, is, ever shall be. This does appear to be coming back again as well. In style, with gusto and mad ringing wind-bag bells.

And I, for one, welcome our new aristocracy. To do otherwise would be to commit social suicide, and so, none of us poor and pitiful plebs and peasants have any choice, now, do we?

…the academic elite, the rich and the powerful, the do-goodie social justice warrior hive-mind, the intersectional feminist hordes and various other moral puritans, clingers-on and opportunists will burn western civilization to ashes with their ludicrous ideas, ideals and ideologies. Then they will stand atop the ashes and complain that the soot gets in their eyes, demanding that someone else rinse their eyes and clean the soot from their mouths and tongues. Consequences only ever happen to other people. And the mighty will laugh as their towers grow ever taller, ever more fortified.

The feminist “aristocracy” carries on with their carrying on, conflating the upper crust of society – the powerful one percent of men with the comparatively powerless 99 percent of men. (Neglecting the powerful women in the process, because they don’t factor into the equation.) This is such an obvious example of the apex fallacy that I struggle to understand why people do not see it for what it is. Or, well, that is to say: I would struggle, were it not for the feminist indoctrination that have been drip-fed into us making it so that we do not see things that are actually there. Instead, we see things that aren’t there, twisted and obscured by the laced panties of feminist-presented inequality. Repeat a lie often enough, and it becomes truth. The worst bloody part of it all is that I, personally, would not mind a special interest group for women, were it not for three things in particular which feminism is guilty of;

1: the constant blaming, shaming, devaluing and so and such of boys, men and masculinity. It is possible, you know, to advocate for the interests of one group without simultaneously believing that the other group(s) have no issues that need to be dealt with, as well as not making the other group(s) out to be your enemies. Most MRA’s do not attack women, nor do they attack femininity. They attack feminism. Men’s rights advocacy and feminism is not the same thing, only with the genders reversed. Should that happen – should the men’s rights movement ever devolve into an -ism such as feminism, I will turn my back on it. And rightly so. Last point: Feminism and women are not the same thing. Feminism – and society overall – would do well to stop conflating the two. Maybe then, honesty would be possible.

2: men are not “allowed” our own interest group, due in no small way to feminist influence, attacks, smears and various and sundry. Personally, I believe feminism projects when they attack the very broad men’s rights movement for so-called women-bashing, misogyny and other such nonsense, believing that our rhetoric mirrors their rhetoric. Or wilfully confusing men’s rights with various other subgroups within the so-called manosphere. Feminism is a very solipsist movement, seldom seeing further than the tips of their noses. Or, well, perhaps pretending they do not, to score cheap rhetorical points. Therefore, if feminism attacks masculinity such as it constantly does, by their logic, a movement for the interests of men must necessarily attack women and femininity. If women shall be “allowed” their own interest group, men should also. For, you know, equal treatment and all that. (I doubt very much that feminism is an interest group for women, though. Rather, it is an interest group for the ideology of feminism.)

3: any interest group, no matter which demographic it proposes to speak for, should never strive for supremacy… not for their demographic, nor for their ideas. Yet feminism does so. I fail to see anything but the feminist hive-mind shouting about the supremacy of women through their slogans and their behaviour. “The future is female”. Disregarding the call for gendercide from which that slogan sprung for a moment; substitute “female” with any other demographic – particularly a currently unpopular one – and one can not fail to see the thinly veiled sense of supremacy and superiority.

“The future is white”, for instance.


What about “the future is Aryan”?

It roars and it holds forth women as the supreme sex, and feminism as the supreme idea. Authoritarianism ought to be rooted out and thrown to the winds… something as powerful, as influential and as domineering as feminism has become must be scrutinized, must be picked apart. Then, maybe, something better could rise to fill the void – something which does not propose to hold the only view worth a damned on the infected and confusing term “equality”; something which does not devolve and become an -ism.

I suppose, however, that I should be grateful for feminism believing and speaking as they do about men in general, as well as men in power, as it showcases the thoughts of feminism. Particularly what feminist women in power will do. It appears as though they believe that men in power only do things for the benefit of other men because they themselves would only do things for the benefit of other women. If a feminist accuses you of doing something, you can bet your bum, your house, your dogs and your car that this is something the feminist themselves do, albeit with certain things reversed – such as gender.

Female in-group preference have been proven to be much higher than male in-group preference. This explains quite a lot. Considering also that studies have shown women to consider it sexism when men treat women worse than they treat other men, as well as considering it sexism when men treat women just as they would treat other men, seeing it only as being treated equally to men when men treat women better than they treat other men, and we have a pickle to deal with whenever a feminist woman clamours on about “sexism” and equality, or inequality for that matter. To feminism, and women, generally speaking, apparently, equal treatment does mean treating women better than men. This despite it being anything but equal treatment. This will, and does, cause problems when feminism is the only force allowed to speak on behalf of perceived equality between the sexes.

The feminist vision of equality is not equal treatment, but preferential treatment of women.

Chivalry, in a word, male sacrifice in two.

However: bitching and moaning about feminism as I do, does nothing but scratch the surface of the muck and mulch of society and the way society treats men. Or, for that matter, the way men allow society to treat us. For men as a group are certainly not without fault.

Feminism is not necessarily the cause of it.

At the very least not the cause of all of it.

Or most of it.

In fact; I believe feminism to be a symptom, not a cause.

Nevertheless, symptom or cause: feminism has weaponized the societal indifference to the suffering of men and the struggles men face. It has weaponized the natural gynocentrism of our species – that is – humanity and its desire to protect and to provide for the female of the species.

Sperm, after all, is incredibly cheap.

Eggs, on the other hand, are not.

Males are expendable, females are not.

Biologically, of course, it makes sense.

If one were to look at it from a strictly biological point of view, the meaning of life is to sow ones seeds and reproduce before one dies.

That is all there is to it.

Of course, humanity being such highly evolved domesticated primates as we are, we have become able to (somewhat) consciously rise above that – to philosophize, ponder and pontificate on this and that and all the other such’s and so’s that we could ever wish. Both blessed and cursed with self-awareness and consciousness.

Subconsciously, however, I doubt we ever will rise above that. For we forget, in our hubris, in our heightened intellect and our heightened awareness of self, that we are – at the end of the clammy day – nothing but animals ourselves, not far removed from chimpanzees. This is very much evidenced at the end of a wet Saturday, as the bar closes and we file out in barely contained chaos, going each to our own nests – hopefully having captured a mate along the way, for one night or for prosperity, fighting, fucking and bellowing to our hearts content, grooming and teasing and playing and cozying up to the alpha, keeping one eye on any weakness in his position, any cracks in his armour. In seeing and discovering ourselves as conscious human beings, it seems we simultaneously lost track of ourselves and our roots – that we lost our very nature, as it were.

In doing such as feminism has done, feminism has hoisted itself up to a position of immense power and influence. Power and influence that any hate-movement should not have.

For I will not mince words: feminism is a hate-movement. All of it. I do not care for separating between so-called radical feminism and so-called moderate feminism. As long as the moderates do nothing to expel their radicals; as long as the moderates do nothing to quell the indoctrination and the whole societal zeitgeist that says that men are – at heart – wicked, that women are – at heart – noble, there is no distinction to be made.

As long as the thought-leaders, the celebrated and still revered voices of feminism consist of the Dworkin’s and the Koss’s, the Solanas’ and the Gearhardt’s and the Bindel’s – amongst others – there is no distinction to be made.

There is only a feminist tactic of diversion, separating the so-called moderates from the so-called radicals.

At the end of the day, men are the ones to be blamed, shamed, ridiculed and thrown under the bus.

At the end of the long night, masculinity is the thing that is attacked, and then attacked some more.

At the end of the week, no matter what or how or when, the struggles of boys and men, the suffering boys and men face, are not taken seriously and will never be taken seriously and spoken about as long as feminism is in control, as long as feminism does what it can to stomp out the voices of men in regards to the struggles of men.

At the end of the month, there is no empathy for boys and men as long as feminism hold the reigns.

Only ridicule and shame for those that dare speak on the topic. For men don’t need rights. For men already have all the rights. And other such nonsense.

Walk a mile in her shoes”, they say. And we buckle down and do, hearing nothing about “walk a mile in his shoes”. The reason for this may very well be that he does not have any shoes left to walk in. They have become too tight, too confined and he can not use them any more. No-one has ever cared enough about the male condition to properly see it for what it is, focusing instead all the energy and such-and-so on the female condition and then calling it a day when they figured out how women suffer and struggle. The other half does not factor into it. Only the one matter, the other does not.

For all their high-flying and fancy talks about only being about equal rights; for all their tall tales and ridiculous claims that they help men as well, by helping women, it has at its core, at its beating heart and festering canker-sore the raw and searing hatred of, and contempt for, men, its fear of men, its shaming of men, its paranoid delusions about men made manifest in their attempted control and remodelling and re-engineering of men, as well as masculinity itself.

If only men were more like women, all should be well.

High priced baloney and piss-pottery, of course.

But this does not matter when it has been decided that men are the enemy and women are the forces for good; that masculinity is dirty and femininity is pure. This is not viewing men and women as equals. To view the sexes as equal, one must understand that both have the capacity for good as well as for bad. This is something neither feminism or society overall is any good at. Women are not bad. Men are. This is, and has been for some time, the view of things.

A reasonable view of things would be to say that neither men nor women are inherently bad. Most people are good and decent people that try their best at being good and being decent. Some people are bad, and neither sex nor gender factor into the wickedness. The execution of wickedness may vary depending on sex (men being physical in their wickedness, women psychological in theirs), but wickedness is – he he – gender-fluid. Or at the very least gender-neutral.

And that, I think, is that for this part of the ramble. Join me next week, if you so please, for the next – and most likely last – part of this lengthy ramble.

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  • Moiret Allegiere, 25.01.2020

Lonely Trainstation Blues – Poetry for the Lost Boys, Kindle: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07ZB6K2JX
Lonely Trainstation Blues – Poetry for the Lost Boys, Paperback: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1692495518

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

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What the Fuck Are You Dancing For?

The busy steel-mill explosions; the coal-mine exoskeletons,
the streets with their stench of piss and spinal-taps,
the harlots, the hangmen, the hurriers?

The busty lock-jawed barmaid, fine fermented sugar-drinks,
the banshee howls of academic arsonists,
the doom-platoons that preach of death?

Rare silverware-collectors, trick-hopped debt-enforced enslavers,
tolerance-flailers with pin-striped politics-wedgies,
Morality-policing puritans with their fifty shades of fuck?

Who are they – the ones you are dancing for?

Lopsided loot-crate exclusives, corporate overlord executives,
multi-level global corporate-sanctioned rebellion,
kindergarten-level ethics of offence?

The obscenity-trials of the year, flaccid eye-rape and despair,
the silly silencers promoting postnatal abortion rights,
automatons choking on their fragrant morality-void?

Globalist safe-haven abandonment nations, cultural explosions,
new-age segregationists mumbling Jim Crow sentiments,
emancipation of dry-heaved emotional flatulence?

Who are the ones you are dancing for?

Mediocre musical wastelands, death of beauty and of truth,
a lonely G-string tuned to burlesque slut-walk symphonies,
flip-flopped, docile post-fornication hangover blues?

Hypocrites demanding obedience and lectures in radical redemption,
absolution of past sins through tongue-twisting trials by fire,
proof of vapour-wave virtue in the courts of social media?

Shit-eating free-form post-colonial fart-art, dry-lipped buttocks-kiss,
free-bleeding vaginal artists spewing period-blood on pavement-cracks,
the fall of Rome, her succulent tits deflated and devalued?

Who the hell are you dancing for?

Vaguely worded collective guilt, communal crime and punishment,
spit-shined, dry-humped, dry-heaved cultural contempt,
letters of the law that enforce a law of the letters?

Slip-shoed gender warriors, supremacist venom clothed in silk,
perfumed censors picking objectionable words from our throats,
an absurdist monkey-dance, a free-form enabler-trance?

Miserable pot-roasted goons educated on crumbs and ruin,
devoid of values, purpose, self, soul, home and honour,
low-rent memory worshipping made-up imagery?

What the hell are you dancing for?

Self-congratulatory, self-back-patting aristocratic mulch,
out of touch clown-world sycophantic AI robotics,
daft elitist sentiments from syphilitic celebrities?

Self-elected moral guardians, self-appointed ethics-deciders,
prey-less hunters in the wild, free speech defilers,
PC-policing cry-bully authoritarian tyrants?

Mass-manufactured media-outrage, machines of global stupidity,
propaganda-outlets promoting thinly veiled violent insanity,
revolutions that will ensnare and later on enslave us?

Who paid the piper and the pipes you’re dancing to?

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  • Moiret Allegiere, 22.01.2020

Lonely Trainstation Blues – Poetry for the Lost Boys, Kindle: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07ZB6K2JX
Lonely Trainstation Blues – Poetry for the Lost Boys, Paperback: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1692495518

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

Why I am an Anti-feminist, Part 13

Didn’t find the time for a drawing for this one. Please Enjoy a photo of my beard enjoying a cup of coffee.

One of the things that most confound me in this ever-lasting current year of confusing culture-wars and social justice nonsense is this willingness from women in general, whether feminist or not, to be considered victims and to consider themselves as victims.

Whatever can be held forth as an example of victimhood will be grabbed, smeared in their faces like blood and warpaint, then held forth as a supreme example of the perpetually victimized woman.

The best example of this, I believe, is the wage-gap. The feminist lie about this has been debunked over and over again.

Time and time again.

Again and again and again.

And still it is being used to justify their infantile victimhood-complex, used as proof of overt discrimination; used as an example of why feminism is still ever so sorely needed in this age of the mighty hysteria.

The truth is out there for everyone to see. The wage-gap, as feminism prefers to present it, is long since debunked. And then it is debunked again. And a third time, just for good measure.

It is, in fact, an earnings-gap.

Meaning: men work more than women, men take on more overtime, men are better negotiators than women, men take less sick-leave, men work more dangerous jobs… and so forth and so on.

There is also this pesky little factoid to contend with: it is illegal to pay someone less or more depending on their sex.


Which makes me wonder where all the lawsuits are. Where are all the companies going bankrupt from having to pay legal fees, being sued into oblivion, being assaulted day and night by police-forces, besieged by law and order from clearly breaking the law?

Not that this matters much, of course. For lately I have seen the feminist hordes move the goalposts ever so slightly, and apparently unseen and unnoticed, cloaked by the nights veiled satin madness. This time around, being unable to still keep the wage-gap lie going as they used to, they claim it instead to be proof that typical female professions are considered of less worth than typical male professions… further keeping the wage-gap myth going, despite it being debunked. And no evidence needed, of course. Believe women. Even when they make no sense and present no evidence but their own assumed assertions. For women have got to be victims. Otherwise, what is the bloody point of feminism?

The feminist hive-mind are well aware that the pay-gap is false. They just don’t give a fuck. Or they choose not to believe it, as victimhood just taste so damned sweet in their mouths and scatter-brained infantilism. A feminist will roar in your face, spittle and drool flying everywhere, that “Did you know that women are paid less than men? And – no – this has nothing to do with the aforementioned reasons. We are discriminated against, I promise! Fuck-face!”.





Followed by a kick to the chest to send one plummeting down the morally decayed and emotionally bankrupt bottomless pit of dread feminist despair; victimizing and infantilizing the poor whamens one second of free-fall at a time.

This I can not grasp. They are well aware of the debunking. They just don’t care. They want to be discriminated against. They want to be victims.

So strong. So tough. So resilient. Nevertheless, she persisted. And all other pathetic platitudes and select sentences that say little, but sure as hell help in boosting some frail and frantic feminist egos. It sure must feel good to be constantly validated and celebrated, no matter what you do. Or don’t do. Even when just doing things you’re supposed to do. Or not supposed to do.

When this so-called discrimination has been disproved and debunked, one should believe that the feminist platoons would be well pleased with themselves. That they would pat themselves on their chubby back-fat in self-congratulatory, self-celebratory glee (as is, of course, their greatest talent) and be pleased with this lack of discrimination.

It is, however, the other way around.

They celebrate perceived discrimination.

Not lack of discrimination.

For their core reason for existing is to perpetuate feminism. If discrimination is disproven, they weep and carry on as though the discrimination is there. Can not let pesky facts get in the way of the narrative. If the narrative is disrupted, they have no reason to exist. If they have no reason to exist, they can not carry on. Then they would have to actually cultivate a personality instead of merely being a feminist.

That would be a difficult task indeed, for someone whose main goal, focus, career, belief and reason for fucking living, existing, breathing and feeling has been centred around the spiralling drain of feminism all their live-long life. It is a dangerous thing, to make an ideology such a big part of ones identity that one is adrift in the void without it.

They want to be victims. They want to be seen as both weak and helpless – in need of provision and protection – and as strong and independent – a woman needs a man as a fish needs a bicycle, after all.

And a strong, independent fish can not be expected to live long on land. They need to live in water. Take a fish out of water, and it will die. Take a feminist out of feminism; that is to say: victimhood, and she will die.

Though it is true that they don’t need a man.

They need government intervention instead of a man. Implement this law and that law and all those other laws for positive discrimination. You know: actual, written in law for all the world to see discrimination. Blanket discrimination that favours one sex over the other sex.

Then pretend and feign discrimination over this and that and all the other this’s and that’s. Roaring and screaming, snarling and gnarling and snivelling and weeping that they are ever so discriminated against for being women, despite all these laws in their favour and their favour only, so please, daddy, give us some more. For they are the meekest and the most oppressed and the strongest and the most independent all rolled into one neat sausage roll.

In the windblown wastes of Norway, we have a “law of equality”. The wording of the law says that it favours women and minorities. An odd phrasing for a law supposedly in place to guarantee equal treatment, as it clearly favours women… and minorities. Quite contrary to equality. It was proposed that the wording of the law should be altered so as to actually be equal.

You know; gender-neutral.

The feminist hive-mind protested, and so the law remains; gendered discrimination written into the law of equality that is there to work against gendered discrimination. Favouring the sex that is – for some reason – considered the oppressed and helpless sex. And so the law of equality is held forth as proof that women are oppressed… otherwise, we would not need that law to be gender-specific, now would we? Check mate, misogynists.

It is a strange patriarchy to live in, in which women are so favoured that they have special protection under law; in which their voices are heard so clear and taken so seriously that a law that is there to guarantee their privilege remain as-is. Odd as well, considering the feminist screech that everything must be gender-neutral.

Except that which favour women, of course. Which is peculiar and odd. In a society in which women are eternally oppressed and downtrodden, where men are eternally privileged and protected, it is incredibly strange to me…

Of course, the feminist hive-mind will screech and jabber that men don’t need those laws for they are written in the very foundations of our society and our culture. Unseen, but still there. Despite all evidence to the contrary.

When boys and men suffer disadvantages, we don’t need to care about that. Because girls and women suffer more. Why else would there be laws in place especially for girls and women and none for men, if girls and women did not suffer more? Check mate, foul misogynist.

Truly, we live in a society.

We exist within a world in which we have been told that all men everywhere oppress women; in which all men everywhere benefit from the oppression of women.

Now; I have had more than enough feminists scream in my face; either through the internet or in real life to really and truly wonder how – if I were so terrible an oppressor – these women would dare scream in my face as they do. Surely, if women are so scared of men as feminism claims, no woman would dare behave in that manner when facing the terrible and terrifying enemy of their mythology and legend.

When a feminist woman feels so emboldened as to personally attack me for me doing nothing but give my wife a compliment on her appearance… or chew me out for daring to be born on the 8th of March and so celebrate my birthday on the international day of the master-sex… or for referring to my girlfriend at the time as “my girlfriend” instead of using her name, I have to wonder how real that oppression is… and how deep the victimhood goes.

I can not be the only one who consider it weird that women are so terrified of men, and still feel so safe and fancy-free in our proximity that they attempt to control our speech, our behaviour and how we should not celebrate our birthday when it happens to fall on the same day as the international day of the Aryan sex… because celebrating my birthday on the day of my birth distracts from the celebration of women, when those two days just so happen to be the same. Because of course it does.

Alas, for women, there is currency in victimhood. Because people in power will listen to women in distress. As will everyone else, for that matter. There is a need – deeply rooted – within all of humanity to protect women. Now, this protection will be different depending on culture and time and place and whatever. It is still there, however. Women are to be sheltered and saved from this and from that, from tit and from tat and from arse and legs. Biologically, women are more important than men. And men are not as important as women. Women and children first; and to hell with the men… and the boys.

On the Titanic, boys over the age of eight was considered to be men, and so, potentially, left behind to die. (Dr. Charles Pellegrino, “Her Name, Titanic” McGraw-Hills Publishing Company, 1988) So that adult women should survive. How terribly oppressed; how very much treated like chattel when their right to live is greater than that of 8 year old boys!

I would consider being allowed to live where others are expected to die – in fact, to sacrifice their lives for me – a severe privilege. But what the hell do I know, here I sit close-to-weeping after reading an account of a ten year old boy left behind on the Titanic to die; basking in the glow of his eternal male privilege and all the accumulated wealth of his life-time of oppression.

All ten years of it.

Muh patriarchy hurts men too. Because of course it bloody does. Everything must be blamed on men.

I see precious few feminists complaining about “women and children first”, and other very clear female privileges… unless they are able to paint that as women being victimized, of course. Which they will. Though, they will still be reluctant to change it.

One can not take anything away from women, you know. You can only give to women, of course and as expected.

Particularly so when that which is given is taken from men. For men deserve nothing, but to give.

I may sound hyperbolic. But I struggle to see anything but that in situations where men – and young boys – are expected to give their lives so that women shall survive.

That is an extreme example, of course, and I will freely admit to that. It still holds true, however.

We must have so-and-such percentage of women in leadership, and we must have this-and-that percentage of women in this field of study or in that field of study. And on. And on. Talent and merit matters not; only sex. And skin-colour. And other such superficial things. But mainly sex. Because women matter more than anything else.

Women, first and foremost, must be protected from their own choices. But only if they identify as feminist.

I remember the Las Vegas Shooting of 2017, which prompted discussions from feminism on Toxic Masculinity and male violence and all that other stuff which one has come to expect from those who celebrate every single tragedy of this nature for reasons of being able to push their narrative… standing on the corpses of the victims to propagate their political platitudes and say, in voices loud as thunder, that there is something wrong with men.

Remember: it is only a mental health issue when women do something wrong.

Though, of course, considering that masculinity for bullshit-reasons is considered a pathology, one could make the claim that discussions on how terrible men are is a discussion on mental health. This assumes, of course, that one agrees with “traditional masculinity” being presented as a pathology. Which one has to suffer the psychopathology of feminism to agree with.

I remember reading about one young man – a Jonathan Smith, age 30 – who saved about 30 people during the Las Vegas shooting, through his bravery. As a reward for his courage, he got shot in the neck and will, with all likelihood, live with the bullet lodged in his neck for the rest of his life. If that is not enough of a reward for his self-sacrifice, he will also have to live with hearing people blame masculinity, blame men and – by extension himself – for what happened that night. Sweeping generalizations about men and the wickedness of men are par for the course; part and parcel of living in the end-days of western civilization.

Honk, Honk.

There are no sweeping generalizations about the kindness of men; the capacity men have for self-sacrifice, the protective nature of men, and so forth and so on. People have attempted.

Yet, oddly enough, every time someone brings forth the kindness and goodness of men in general, they are attacked for neglecting women… for discriminating against women, for not mentioning the achievements of women. And men are attacked for being violent, being rapists, being this and being that. For one can not say a single word of good about men. Men are obsolete, remember. There is only one sex, and that sex is female.

If anything good is said about men in general, women – whether blatantly feminist or not – will scream victimhood and demand women be included in what is said. For women are victims of someone saying something good about men. Women are victims by not being catered to all the time, by not being celebrated constantly.

It is rage-inducing.

It strikes me as weird, wacky, self-indulgent and incredibly egotistical.

There is no room in our societies to celebrate men. There is only room to celebrate women. There is no room in our societies to harbour empathy for men; all empathy must go to women, all celebration, all everything.

Otherwise; the feminist hordes will screech and writhe in agony.

For anything positive said about men is like kryptonite to a feminist; a most potent allergen. She will break out in hives and in anxious sweat; she will break out in asthmatic fits of rage and wrath and ruin. Then she will cry and weep and demand that women be celebrated and men be neglected. For men have had it all for all time.

And that is true.

Men have had all the ridicule, all the shame, all the self-sacrifice, all the deaths, all the violence, all the neglect, all the abuse our societies could ever willingly lay on the shoulders of an identity group for decades.

And not a damned thing is done about this. For trying to do anything about it further cements, in the minds and eyes and claws and teeth of feminism, the oppression and neglect of women and the so-called constant celebration of men.

Even when men are vilified and made to look like some parody of a James Bond villain… over-the-top and ridiculous. Even when masculinity itself is smeared as something destructive and dark and dangerous, something pathological that must be un-learned and done away with. Men can not be victims. Even when we are victims. For even then, men shall be vilified. For pointing this out means we hate women; that we suffer and struggle from both fragile masculinity and toxic masculinity. And all is wrong with men, and in the world of men there is nothing correct, nothing right, nothing good and proper and true.

And this is also true.

Because feminism has seen to it that nothing shall be good, proper and true in the world of men through refusing men to speak on men’s behalf, through refusing the world to celebrate men and masculinity.

And that is that for this ramble; it was a good vacation and a very good Christmas. And now I struggle to get back into the habit of writing every day since I allowed myself to be a bit of a lazy bastard for two weeks. Oh well; I shall regain my composure and my insane and nimble fingers to wag my tongue at insanity once again. Join me next week, if you please, for more rants, ravings, writings and ramblings.

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  • Moiret Allegiere, 04.01.2020

Lonely Trainstation Blues – Poetry for the Lost Boys, Kindle: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07ZB6K2JX
Lonely Trainstation Blues – Poetry for the Lost Boys, Paperback: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1692495518

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

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New Year, New Updates

«Rock N Roll»

Happy new year, you filthy animals!

The current year has come and gone. Just as the current years have done since proper recording of time began. And in this new current year, which I meet and greet head-on with a body reeling from the shock of moderately priced champagne and cigars, I hope that we shall see a current year far better than the current years that have gone before. This despite the current year meme probably being a dead meme at this point in time. Not that this matters all that much. I never was that hip to begin with. Staying behind the current trends is par for the course when living in my body and with my mind. I don’t have time for trends. Trend-hopping seems so unstable and unreliable… as though one lives in a constant state of flux, bouncing hither or dither according to the whims of the great trend-setters in the sky or in the ivory-towers of supreme entangled enlightenment.

The current year of 2020 will be dubbed, I hope, the year of the hindsight. Hindsight being, as we all well know, 20/20. Maybe and mayhaps we shall roll back the madness a bit, stay the tide of insanity and refuse to be ruled by greyscaled academics and cowardly politicians who shake and shiver at the mere trembled ire of the feminist and social justice warrior scorned… those who claim to speak on behalf of all and one… as long as all and one can be neatly defined by supremely superficial characteristics where all are the one and one are the all. Mayhaps and maybe we have learned to not buckle down and listen to insane demands from insane cultists locked within the magnificent jaws of tribal warfare; manufacturing the very thing they claim to be fighting against in order to have something to fight against so that they have some meaning and relevancy in their life and in their cause. Their cause and their life being one and the same for reasons of… hell if I know… lack of imagination, perhaps and perchance?

And all the accumulated filth of all their sex and murder will foam up about their waists and all the whores and politicians will look up and shout “save us!”… They had a choice. All of them. They could have followed in the footsteps of good men like my father, or president Truman. Decent men who believed in a day’s work for a day’s pay. Instead they followed the droppings of lechers and communists and didn’t realize that the trail led over a precipice until it was too late.”

At the end of the day, in all actuality, new years eve and the next year means absolutely nothing. In the grand scale of the thing, it is nothing but yet another ritualistic celebration… ultimately pointless, futile and meaningless. Things go on as they go on, never-minding the change of this or of that, never-minding whether the year flows into the next, as time flows into time into time time and time again. Over and over again. It is what time is; another human characteristic: the need to define and to understand and to neatly label everything and mark the label with celebrations and rituals.

Which I love.

To my fractured mind and ruptured body, we could do with far more rituals in our western societies than we currently have. We hardly mark and celebrate anything in our lives, just go from this and to that with merely a slight celebration tossed in at certain points in our lives, only to go back to going from this and to that; waves lapping at the shore, withdrawing and lapping again and again, time and time again. Straight from this and right into that with merely a small pause between this and that as if tossing the dog a treat on occasion. Seldom do we stop, properly mark, celebrate and enjoy a moment in time or in life for being that moment in time or in life. The moment is never worthy of our attention for more than a split second; a quick moment. And then forgotten, as though it never happened and didn’t matter.

And so, on it goes, the grind, the eternal grind. Clap clap clap, snap snap snap, now now now. Do this, do that, do this and that and do not stop and do not pause and do not consider and do not for one second merely enjoy. For there is always more to be done, that has to be done, that you must do before you can enjoy. And then you die, wondering when in all this mess of life you found the time to do nothing but enjoy. With 20/20 hindsight, the value of a life well lived and beautifully spent seems very clear and obvious indeed. Too bad it was lost in the perpetual grind.

Alas; yet again, I took to rambling when I should have been focusing. Stream of (sub)consciousness does have its drawbacks from time to time, as do freeform (dis)association.

I was thinking of wishing a happy new year to those who consume the material of this blog or of this channel; warm wishes for a happy new year and a big thank you for the year that just flew by in a fit and in a flurry. The current year is always a struggle. Until one realises the futility of the struggle and so get engulfed in the stream instead; becoming like water, as the Taoists would say. Which, admittedly, is an incredibly difficult thing to do. Particularly so when steeped in the waters of insanity, gender-politics, a looming threat of tyranny and the collapse of society such as we know it. Which, as the enlightened observer would know, is more or less all I do with this blog and with this channel. Which makes the aforementioned so much more important. A healthy detachment; separating personal life from professional life as best one can and enjoying the moments in the personal life whilst simultaneously enjoying the moments in the professional life. That is if my ramblings, rants, ravings and writings can be referred to as professional, of course. I believe that they can, but I am clinically insane according to some and full of piss and vinegar according to others, so what the hell do I know? Less than I believe that I know, yet more than some people would admit that I know, I suppose.

The year of the immaculate hindsight will see some changes on this blog and on the BitChute and YouTube channels. Not that heavy, mind you, but enough to warrant some forewarning. This will be a year of change in my personal life. All for the good, mind you, but still things that demand my attention so that I will not be able to update as often as I did in the current year of 2019. I may have to settle for one meagre update a week, with a few pauses in updates here and there. This is just as things will have to be in this year of the flabbergasting hindsight.

To be clear: I am not going mellow or anything like that. I am still full of clinically insane piss and vinegar, full of righteous anger and full frontal fury. Maybe even more so. I had a good cathartic run with my ramblings last year – if I may be so bold as to admit to the selfish nature of my ravings – and it has done me a world of good. Hopefully, other people have found some enjoyment, enlightenment, information and catharsis in them as well. Hopefully, it has done other people some good as well. Hopefully, more people will come to enjoy it. I, for one, have no intentions of ending it any time soon.

A small audience and few views are of no concern to me, in all honesty. What matters is that it gets heard, it gets seen, it gets out there. Were I doing this merely for popularity, I would most certainly not be writing about the topics I write about.

In March, or thereabout, I am releasing yet another collection of my ramblings as a book. Through Amazon once again. These are all ramblings that are freely available on my blog and on my BitChute and YouTube channels, though collected and cleaned up a bit.

Not all I wrote last year is collected there, however.

I had a hard time psychologically – which translates into severe pain in my entire body as well as my psyche – early in 2019, and so my raving ramblings suffered a drop in quality in which I repeated myself far too often from one week to the next. Those that are too similar, that are marked by repetition as a result of pain and fatigue, are not included. Though I humbly believe it is a damned good collection nevertheless.

Releasing books such as this is how I attempt to gain some revenue from doing this thing that I do such as I do it. I am very grateful to those who have bought the books of yesteryear, and will be very grateful to those who buy the books of this current year. It helps keeping the blog and channels going such as they do. There are more than one book being released this year. Three are planned, though there may actually be four – depending on how much I am able to write and edit throughout the year.

And that, I think, is that. Warm wishes for a happy year of the hindsight for all of you.

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  • Moiret Allegiere, 01.01.2020

Lonely Trainstation Blues – Poetry for the Lost Boys, Kindle: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07ZB6K2JX

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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

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Why I am an Anti-feminist, part 11

«Mid-day Greetings»

One of my most favourite memes of all time is one in which there is a picture of a Barbie doll. Above the picture of the Barbie doll are the words “This is Barbie”, followed by the usual inane ramblings from feminism about the negative body-image, the stereotypical whatever and what-not and the negative effect this has on girls… how terrible and oppressive and so and such (and every other buzzword) it is. Next to the image of the Barbie doll is a picture of a He-man action figure. Above that picture, the words read only “this is He-man”.

I don’t believe there is any reason for me to explain what this means, though for the unenlightened ones, I may well do so.

He-man is a bloody hulk; a searing mass of muscle and flesh and brawn. An unreachable body for all but the most roided up of men.

And Barbie is a slim woman.

Both of them also happen to be dolls. Toys meant to amuse children. Not that this matters much, of course. Children do not exist to be amused and to play, they exist to be imprinted with an agenda, to be moulded into beautiful pawns of the gender-neutral purple penguin future. I am not all that familiar with the He-man series or its universe, being a child of the glorious animation of the nineties instead; Animaniacs, Tiny Toons, Freakazoid, Batman the Animated Series, etc.

I am, however, aware enough of the He-man universe to know two things:

1: Skeletor is the spitting image of Joe Biden. There is an uncanny resemblance.

2: He-man has not had as many careers as Barbie has, given that she has been granted almost every possible profession in the world – even McDonald’s employee.

Both the “low-status” and “high-status” professions have been granted her, it seems, bottled and sold to these poor impressionable girls who are ever so oppressed by their dolls and their career-prospects.

Now, I may very well be an absolutely entitled man-splaining moron, but it seems to me that selling the idea of women being able to hold every profession under the sun would be very much welcomed by the feminist platoons. And it probably is. As long as the woman is not a slim woman with an idealized body-type that is unavailable to all but a plastic doll. Which she, as a matter of fact, is.

A plastic doll.

A doll made from plastic.

Not a living, breathing human being with organs and emotions and other such pesky annoyances.

She is, in fact, a plastic doll.

Interesting to note is also that her male counterpart, Ken, functions as little more than arm-candy for Barbie. A status-object which cements her as not only professionally successful, but also socially successful. Ken also just so happen to be completely and utterly neutered, fantastically emasculated, devoid of ham as well as eggs, as it were. Which makes me wonder how in the world Barbie ever managed to get pregnant by him… There is a pregnant Barbie doll, for those of you who are uninitiated. And it is absolutely marvellous. And I say this with sincerity – it is a fantastic toy, all things considered. Don’t “at” me, brah.

Come to think of it: the entirety of the Barbie universe may very well represent the grandest and most fantastic feminist utopia – the ultimate wet dream of the feminist hive-mind; a world in which women dominate every profession, men are castrated at birth, thus serving no purpose but to be yet another success-object for Barbie and her friends – an object upon which the women then may release all their scorn, anger and malcontent when needed, who obligingly crawls back into his cage when the women are done with whatever he is needed to do at the moment… after all, when all the lids are screwed open and the living-room remodelled, what use could he – or any man, for that matter – possibly have?

Due to the emasculated nature of Ken, I can not possibly reach any other conclusion than this: the Barbie universe is a world in which babies are conceived through the use of synthetic sperm, aided by doctor Barbie herself. As such, the Barbie-verse has successfully eliminated the archaic notion that heterosexual intercourse is necessary for procreation. Heterosexual intercourse obviously being – as one should be well aware by now – rape of the woman, no matter what.

In structuring their society in this manner, Barbie and her cohorts have succeeded in eliminating all rape. Excepting stare-rape, fart-rape and all that other stuff. But that is of small consequence within the confines of this universe. For Ken to be blinded at birth is next on the agenda, thus eliminating once and for all the pesky male gaze and any future possibilities of stare-rape.

Through this reasoning, we come to realize that Barbie, as opposed to the claims from feminism, actually represent the pinnacle of flaccid feminist fantasy. Surely it is a wonder that they do not celebrate her. Had she not been slim, they probably would have. Yet, they must have something to complain about, why not? Nothing is more important to feminism than perpetuating feminism, thus the need for something to whinge and whine about. Otherwise, they would have to consider themselves obsolete and find new careers, which for a professional feminist of no ill repute is a hard task indeed. Make no mistake – there is a lot of money and power involved in feminism. And they have to maintain that stream of money and flow of power by any means, any whims and any whines necessary.

The Barbie universe is a feminist utopian fantasy. An ideal society for all but those pesky non-feminists out there, for whom it is a dystopian fantasy. Of course, these people do not matter. For they are not flying the true colours of the searing sisterhood.

The society which Barbie and Ken inhabit is one in which women rule absolutely everything by virtue of nothing but their sex, sexual reproduction does not exist, boys are castrated at birth, growing up to be little more than man-servants… a society in which the lives of men is an existence of absolute slavery and servitude.

Beneath the fluffy pink exterior of the Barbie-verse lies a society of gloom and doom, of chains and whips, neglect and abuse.

See – I can do it too.

And I wrote this “thesis” after a night of poor sleep in the span of ten minutes. Overanalysing something to the point of absurdity is not difficult at all. Why should the feminist interpretation be more accepted? Personally, I think I make a compelling case. Particularly so if I could flesh it out some more… much like the body-positivity Barbie dolls have been fleshed out in recent years. They are highly irregular around the margins, one could say.

Anyway – the roided up action figures made for boys do not damage the self-esteem and body image of boys and young men. I know this to be true, because the feminist hive-mind have told me so. (Now, I tend to believe children in general to be pretty adept at separating fantasy from reality and toys depicting human beings from actual human beings. I have this radical notion that kids are far more clever and far more intelligent than we tend to believe. Also – I really like kids. They are great.)

You see, these figures for boys are representative of a “Male Power Fantasy”, and as such is negative for girls and women having to endure the terror of the male power fantasy, not for boys and certainly not for men. Unless, of course, the discussion can be whip-lashed about a bit to focus on toxic masculinity. Which is harmful to boys and men, but most of all to girls and women. Because nothing else matters but women and girls.

The only ones allowed to speak on what is damaging to boys and men, or what is good for them, are the followers of feminism.

Because nothing else matters.

And that is all that there is to that.

This is also something the feminist hive-mind have told me. And so it must be true.

Because nothing else matters.

Yet, if I were to make the claim – as I have just done, albeit in more words, that Barbie represents a “Female Power Fantasy”, I would have a feminist fatwa on my head. (Which I probably already have.) It would not be taken seriously. And, I believe, rightly so.

The polls are in, the votes are counted and the deaf, dumb and blind have had their say. Their say is simple: Barbie makes girls feel uncomfortable about their bodies, inadequate and so-and-such. And sop they must either be banned, or altered to fit in with their vision of the world. Because nothing else matters.

Implicit in this line of feminist reasoning, taking into consideration that He-man apparently does not create similar body-issues in boys, is the notion that girls are psychologically weaker than boys – that women are emotionally more fragile than men; that they are much more likely than are boys and men to give in to peer pressure and societal expectations of a negative nature. Girls are far more impressionable than boys. Except when they aren’t. Which is, as it always is, when, whatever, never-mind.

Boys are not affected by unrealistic body-whatevers, nor unreachable beauty-whatevers from their toys. Girls are. Therefore, we must not care about boys because they – as opposed to girls – are completely capable of separating toys from reality, fiction from non-fiction and their power fantasies from their actual day to day life. Excepting video-games, which have the awesome power of turning them into foul misogynists and other such naughty things. This makes no sense, since boys and men are misogynists by default for being moulded into hating women from the moment of birth… but, no mind, little matter. Feminism and its ideas do tend to get very confusing, self-contradictory and strange. Which may very well be by design, creating a simple intellectual “out” for every possible refutation for reasons of being designed in a confusing manner.

“This is true. And so is this other thing, which is the exact opposite to that other thing.” This is because feminism is not a monolith. Except when it is. Despite that it isn’t. All dependent on the whim and fury of the feminist in question, at the moment of questioning. Individualist when it suits them, collectivist when it suits them.

Feminism does not exactly leave us with a good picture of femininity, nor does it grant us any belief in the strength and resilience of girls and women when feminists carry on as they do, is what I’m trying to get at.

All the while, they give us an incredibly telling view into their opinions on the resilience and strength of boys and men when compared to that of girls and women, which is quite simple: Boys and Men can handle anything the world throws at them, Girls and Women can not. Evidenced by #killallmen being considered A-OK, whereas any criticism of a woman – particularly a feminist woman – is enough to render them slaves to PTSD for the rest of their lives, and is more than enough proof of the terrible misogyny of the internet as well as all men everywhere. Men are well suited to endure a constant negative message – up to and including calls for gendercide, even on national fucking television in Australia, as we have recently seen. Mona Eltahawy on the – I believe now infamous – Q&A feminist special.

They removed that segment from the internet after a while. Claiming it to be too “controversial”. I believe to engage in damage control on behalf of feminism. It would be far more damaging to the image and reputation of feminism to keep it up, and so it is removed. Clearing away evidence, as it were.

Or am I being too cynical and overly paranoid? I don’t know. One man’s paranoia is another man’s reason, after all.

One thing is certain, however: all this abuse, and more, men shall endure. For men are expected to endure it. Yet, women are not even suited to endure criticism. Nor do they ever need to. They are to be hoisted way above that. #believewomen does not only refer to nefarious claims of dubious sexual assaults. PTSD from Twitter. Post Twitter Stress Disorder. Social-media-shell-shocked. Poor whamen and their social media shenanigans. They most certainly deserve a safe-space on the internet to spew their #killallmen without being harassed for it. How else would they be able to demonize all men without being reminded that men are, as a matter of fact, actual human beings that may not take kindly to calls for them to be killed solely on the basis of their sex?

Yet the claim from feminism is that men in general view women as weak and incapable? It is not men that claim women to be victims of the air-conditioning and the misogyny of temperature. Or of male flatulence. Or exclamation marks. Just putting that out there for you to chew on.

It is quite telling, I think, that feminism seek to shut down – to cancel and remove – anything they dislike. If failing to cancel it, they attempt to mould it into something they enjoy.

Instead of just accepting that some people enjoy things they themselves do not enjoy and carrying on with their life, they would rather make it so that no-one shall enjoy it. A world in which they have to co-exist with people who knowingly and without a moments hesitation enjoy something they can not stand is a terrible world to exist in. There is a reason for me referring to feminism as totalitarian and tyrannical. If something does not suit their delicate sensibilities, it must be shut down so that no-one can enjoy it. And people oblige. For some odd and peculiar reason, people oblige them in their quest for moral as well as ideological purity.

This man wrote something on a portrait of Stalin in the newspaper! Off to the Gulag with him! Subterfuge and acts of terrorism!

This man made a joke about female lingerie! Off to the Goolag with him! Subterfuge and acts of misogyny!

Imagine the horror of someone enjoying something you do not enjoy!

The horror!

The Horror!

Sic Transit Gloria Mundi.

…Ford Transit Gloria Mundi…

Such is the case with striptease and pornography and grid-girls and Barbie and nude modelling and Fifty Shades of Grey and tit and tat and arse and legs. If the feminist horde do not enjoy it, none shall be allowed to enjoy it. It does not matter what women in these professions say, whether they enjoy their work or not. The feminist hive-mind – that is to say, their moral superiors – have decided that these women are not allowed to enjoy their work, and as such are not allowed to do their work. They are victims of their own choices which are forced on them by the patriarchy, whether they agree with this statement or not. Women can not make their own choices, if those choices contradict the feminist position. Which just about every choice does, since feminism is not a monolith and one feminist’s act of empowerment is another feminist’s act of oppression. In this way, sex-work is both empowering and oppressive to feminism. Which is all about women making their own choices. Except when it isn’t. Which is when it is.

Seemingly and apparently, nothing is more vile and treacherous to these charlatans than a woman choosing to be home-maker, a housewife, a stay-at-home-mother! That is such a terrible affront to the terribly trembling forces that be that they will name, blame and shame any woman who does so, try to convince her that she has not made her own choices but is locked under the spell and awesome influence of the patriarchy and must break free from its chains and instead enjoy what they say she must enjoy. Which is not necessarily what she wants to do, but that does not matter.

Any one individual woman does not exist to an ideology that is collectivist when it suits them and individualist when collectivism does not suit them – no sir, she does not! She is part of the in-group “women”, and as such must do as the sisterhood demands. Otherwise, she is a traitor to the sisterhood as well as the cause. Whatever the cause may be at any given moment. And that cause is as fickle and ever-changing as anything that is fickle and ever-changing could possibly be.

The typical mantra of “We only want equality between the sexes” does not compute very well when feminism opposes equality, such as they do in England where the pension-age has been raised for women to be equal to the pension-age of men. This they can not stand, and so they protest and oppose. Even when men die younger than women, and so ought to have their pension-age lowered for true and proper equality.

It is so obviously not equality they seek that it boils my teeth and grinds my intestines that people still chant this bloody mantra of theirs that it is only about equality. As if that nebulous weasel-term “equality” even means anything any more except whatever a god-damned feminist demand that it means at any given moment. Which is to be opposed by the next feminist. And neither of these are real feminists, nor is their feminism real feminism according to the feminist that oppose the first feminist. Cock me backwards and paint my dogs pink; this whole ideology is so self-contradictory that I cannot fathom why people label themselves as a feminist as though it means anything concrete. Apparently, it means everything and nothing all at once… it is for all the causes in the universe at the same time as being only for the causes of women.

The brilliant Elizabeth Hobson has a saying which I enjoy very much: “Feminism is harmful to children and other living things”. Well put, madam, well put.

If you are a man who enjoy any of the past-time activities mentioned above… if you are a man who simply just want a traditional relationship for whatever reason… may the grand Patriarch Xenu have mercy on your lack of soul!

You are henceforth, and until the end of time, a foul oppressor of women, contributing to the ongoing sexual objectification of women, the subjugation and enslavement of women, the rape, pillage and ruination of women, the body-hysteria of women, the fuck-if-I-know-insert-whatever-here of women.

After all, women were treated as chattel back in the days when they were pampered and protected, as opposed to now, where they are free to do exactly as they wish, as long as they do what feminism wishes them to do.

And as long as men – as well as society overall – pamper and protect them.

Now, I have stated before, that I am not a particular fan of traditionalism… at least not one that is enforced by law or by culture. I believe it removes far too much individual freedom from everyone, be they male or female.

How people chose to delegate responsibilities and roles in their personal relationships – traditional or not – should not be of any worry to anyone but those who are involved. But to claim – as feminism does – that men overwhelmingly emerge victorious in all manner of privilege and what-not when it comes to a traditional relationship is brutally dishonest. At best. No-one lies on their death-bed, whispering “I wish I had spent more time at work”.

Now, I am well aware that feminism makes the claim to care about the plight of men; “Gender Roles Hurt Men Too!”.

Odd, then, that they jabber on and on about men needing to stand up for and protect women. Which is a very traditional gender role, to be sure and to be certain. Protect. And provide.

Provide them with Barbie Dolls and protect them from Barbie Dolls and the negative impact these dolls have on young girls at the same time.

Despite Barbie being created by a woman. This don’t matter much, of course. Celebrating things created by women is only ever done if the things created flows with the orthodoxy. Which it probably did back in the day… However, what self-proclaimed feminists of yesteryear celebrated will not be celebrated by the self-proclaimed feminists of this current year of ours. Except when it is. Which is when it isn’t.

It is almost as though one would be inclined to believe – yet again – that feminism, as it stands, have no end-goals. That it is an ideology and a movement that is created to carry on and carry on and carry on in perpetuity, manufacturing new outrages and terrors and this-that-the-others for every new generation of frail and frantic femininity… even if that means going contrary to the previous generation of frantic feminism and its causes.

Everything, you have to understand, is a women’s issue first and foremost, no matter what it is. Even the things that are not women’s issues first and foremost has to be a women’s issue first and foremost. Which is interesting in itself. Men are victims of violence far more than women are. Yet women are most affected, and are the ones who must be protected. Men are completely capable of fending for themselves. Women are not. And so women must be provided for and protected from men by men, despite all men being terrible and despite men being the main victims of violence. This could well be applied to anything. Meteor hits earth, women most affected. Barbie hits stores, women most affected. Girls enjoy Barbie-dolls, and this is terrible.

Buy a fucking He-man doll then, and stop yer whinin’!

And that is it for this ramble. Join me next week for more Tales From the Crypt, as I attempt to channel the awesome might and energy of my intoxicatingly masculine beard into words once again.

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  • Moiret Allegiere, 07.12.2019

Lonely Trainstation Blues – Poetry for the Lost Boys, Kindle: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07ZB6K2JX
Lonely Trainstation Blues – Poetry for the Lost Boys, Paperback: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1692495518

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
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Why I am an Anti-feminist, part 10:

«Morning Greetings»

From http://www.etymonline.com:

Rape (v.)

Late 14c., “Seize prey, abduct, take by force,” from rape and from Anglo-French raper (Old French Rapir) “to seize, abduct”, a legal term, probably from past participle of Latin rapere “seize, carry off by force, abduct”.

Latin rapere was used for “sexually violate,” but only very rarely; the usual Latin word being stuprare “to defile, ravish, violate,” related to stuprum, literally “disgrace.” Meaning “To abduct (a woman), ravish;” also “seduce (a man)” is from early 15c. In English. Related: Raped; raping. Uncertain connection to Low German and Dutch rapen in the same sense.

Rape (n.1)

Early 14c., “Booty, prey;” mid-14c., “Forceful seizure; plundering, robbery, extortion,” from Anglo-French rap, rape, and directly from Latin rapere “seize” (see rape (v.1). Meaning “Act of abducting a woman or sexually violating her or both” is from early 15c., but perhaps late 13c. In Anglo-Latin.

Rape (n.2)

Kind of Cruciferous plant… but that’s not important right now.

Well, then, apart from the knowledge that “rape” means both “booty” and “forceful seizure”, (albeit at different times), allowing my immature mind to immediately connect the two into “forceful seizure of booty” and then proceed to giggle like a thirteen year old who has only recently discovered pornography and masturbation… why would I bore you with this?

First and foremost, I find it fairly interesting to see how words evolve and change and grow. How they take on new meanings over time. In another life, I may very well have become a linguist. Though, that would have also meant becoming an academic, which is not particularly tempting, interesting or alluring. Particularly not in the current year.

Secondly, I would like to believe that I am not the only one who noticed a few small details in the definition. And that is “to abduct (a woman), ravish”, “act of abducting a woman or sexually violating her or both”, and – most interesting – “seduce (a man)”.

I take this to mean that women are sexually violated by men, and that men are seduced by women. (Though I have no problems admitting that this may very well be my bias at work.) It does seem to be pretty much such as it is, was, always have been and always will be regarding male victims of female sexual violence. For, interestingly enough, it is exactly as the wordings are in newspapers in our current clown-world climate regarding the same.

Particularly so in this sacred current year of our lord and saviour Id-pol, in which we have been gifted a veritable cornucopia, a seemingly endless stream of female teachers raping their under-aged pupils or students. Only for the act to always and ever be referred to as her seducing him or them engaging in a romantic affair or a light-hearted, sexual romp.

One of my favourite cases must have been the one female teacher who claimed that she was the one seduced by the kid… on multiple occasions. She was the victim, you have to understand, of her statutory rape of her student as well as her misuse of power.

Yet, if the we’ve-got-to-complain-about-something-nag-nag forces of frail and fragile feminism has taught us anything, it is this: anyone in a position of power may never have sexual relations with anyone who is beneath them in the chain of command. That is rape, no matter what. According to feminism. This only ever applies when it is a man doing it. As one would expect. If it is a woman, even a teacher and her student, it is not rape. It is seduction, it is a romp, it is a romantic affair. It is this or that or the other. The lengths people will go to in order to not use the word “rape” when it is a woman raping a man or a boy are extraordinary. And, admittedly, impressive in its perverse way.

Part of this refusal to use the word “rape”, I believe, is due to the laws in the countries concerned, in which rape only happens if there is forced penetration of any part of the body, not when someone is forced to penetrate. Being forced to penetrate is another thing altogether, which may go a long way in explaining why there are so few men popping up as victims in the rape-statistics. Forced to penetrate is simply not counted as rape, and is as such not included. They look to cases of rape for their statistics, brilliantly ignoring cases where the man is made to penetrate. For it is not counted as rape. Sneaky, weaselly and very, very feminist. That is one way to make it appear as if men are seldom, if ever, raped, I suppose. And if they are, it is a man doing it and not a woman. Excepting if the woman penetrates the man with something. Supposedly. Skewed statistics and the kiddy-diddlers. (Excellent band-name. I charge 15 percent royalties, should you chose to use it.)

It is very easy for feminism to just change the definitions around, make the laws and the terminology gender-specific instead of gender-neutral in this era where everything must be gender-neutral except this one thing and that one thing and this other thing, according to the whims of feminism, then sit back and watch the sweet victim-credentials roll in, alongside the government funds to combat the horrible all-male rape squads that prowl the streets at night with unhindered glee in this terrible rape culture of ours. I am looking directly at you, Mary P. Koss.

The rape-squads march with vicious grins alongside the terrible Nazi pug storm-troopers, seeking to forcefully seize all the booty they can carry, ravage and/or defile in their jew-gassing white supremacist misogynist paws, brave pawns of the patriarchy that they undoubtedly are.

We are truly living in a Neo-nazi pug-infested morbid rape-culture, in which rape of a woman is never ever frowned upon, taken seriously, believed or punished… despite raping a woman being considered, both in law and by the culture at large, one of the most heinous crimes one could possibly commit, at times being considered worse than murder.

A woman raping a man, however, is not frowned upon in such a way and such a manner, oddly enough. That is impossible, according to the culture at large.

It is almost as though one would be inclined to dub it a rape-culture, based on feminist definitions, where the victim of rape is never believed and the perpetrator never punished…

Almost as though one would be inclined to believe that we live in a culture in which it has been decided that women are wonderful, and as such are incapable of doing anything terrible, horrible, wicked, evil, cruel, tricksy or false. To such an extent that, when they are found guilty without a doubt, there has got to be some other force to lay the blame upon – usually some terrible abuse, usually suffered at the hands of a male.

Now, I will absolutely and freely admit that I do think it is incredibly important to understand what drives people to do terrible things. Whether those that do so are male or female. Understanding the underlying causes of this, that or the other makes it easier to transcend the underlying causes and so heal – on an individual level – from the trauma or abuse that otherwise may drive people to despair and destruction. This is obviously not to say that I believe people, no matter their sex, should not have to suffer the consequences of their actions. Nor that I condone or support their actions in any way, shape or form. It is to say that understanding the reasons may help forge a path to walk that does not end in disaster, be that disaster something that affects the whole of society or only the one individual.

There is a difference, however, in understanding the causes for something and making excuses for something. It is possible to be empathetic to the trauma and struggles of someone, whilst simultaneously condemning their actions and demand that they face their punishment, whether male or female. Though, I suspect, in this era of the black and white thinking, in the age of identity politics, these are heretical words…

…when aimed at a male, considering that masculinity itself has become a force of crusty, black and decaying evil all alone on its lonesome. It is the bogeyman of our day and of our age, alternately dubbed “toxic masculinity” for not wanting to speak the whole truth of their conviction, which is that all masculinity not in direct service to women i.e. feminism (he for she, for example) is toxic masculinity. There is certainly room for a whole lot of nuanced understanding when it is a woman doing something bad. I am reminded of the medical student in England who, amongst other things, stabbed her boyfriend and got off with no punishment for reasons of the judge not wanting to hinder her promising future career-prospects. As a surgeon. And no wonder; after stabbing her boyfriend, she has already done half of her internship regarding surgery. It would be such a waste of her time and efforts to punish her for doing her job as a surgeon pro bono.

Oh boy.

You have got to understand this: we can not, under any circumstances, have a woman’s future destroyed on account of her fucking it up herself by being violent, crazy, drunk and coked up.

When it suits the powers that be, women have absolutely no agency and no self-determination. Which would go a long way in explaining why feminism believes women incapable of making their own choices, if those choices are choices that go against the sacred tenets, the bewitching rules of the coven of feminism and its broomstick waving, high-flying fancy. Women are as such absolutely incapable of fucking up their futures themselves.

For, in being so strong and independent, they are completely incapable of making their own decisions, bad or good. Now, these are not my opinions – to be clear and to be certain. I absolutely believe women to be just as capable as men of fucking up or not fucking up.

For, you see, I believe men and women should be treated equally. A very radical, dissenting and terrible thought in this age of frail, fragile, fractured, fracturing and fear-inducing feminism I know, but it seems I can not help but be a radical. Even when I don’t wanna be a radical. Or, for that matter, believe myself to be a radical. I am a fairly boring person, all things considered. And I am absolutely fine with that.

What I am not fine with is the feminist hive-mind, including – but not limited to – their SJW cohorts, goons, squadrons, academics, politicians and so forth and so on, ever and always changing the meaning of the word “rape”. One has got to be wilfully blind to not notice this. It is being changed to include anything a woman does not enjoy – including being looked at by a man in a manner that does not suit her delicate sensibilities.

Which is interesting to me, for how is it possible for women to read the minds of men and, in so doing, decide what their intentions are? How could anyone but the man in question possibly know what is or is not his intentions? The subjective feelings of anyone should not be enough to get people punished, be that through law or through mob-hysteria. Yet, we are standing here, in this grey and shady current year, implementing thought-crime laws where the wielder of thoughts do not get a say in what he thinks. For someone else knows better than him what he thought. All for someone feeling uncomfortable under the terror of his male gaze, reading his mind and telling him what he thinks, never giving a fuck what he actually thought, said or did.

In order to be safe, gentlemen, be sure to keep your eyes on the ground when encountering a woman. Keep your head bowed. Do not look her in the eyes. Show respect and deference to your betters! Otherwise, you may very well be charged with the terrible crime of stare-rape. Which may happen on stairs, but not necessarily.

I say this only partly in jest.

That is the most frightening thing.

A pleb and a peasant could not possibly expect that he be allowed to look the aristocratic elite in the eye. How could they? That would tear down the entire social order, fabric and structure. The peasants must be kept in their rightful place. The balance must be kept just as God intended. Some are chosen by God, and some are not. Such as it is, was, always will be.

The meaning of the word “rape” is being watered down so much as to make the entire word completely meaningless. Western civilization is held dangling by a string over a pool of lava by people restructuring and remodelling language to such an extent that nothing has any concrete meaning. There is no definitive meaning to words that once were powerful words with quite a distinct meaning. Racist, misogynist, Nazi, supremacist, fascist, rapist, etc. etc… all these words are now being thrown around willy-nilly in order to shame someone into compliance, to make them defend themselves and not the argument at hand.

If you want to control a population, I believe destroying language completely is a good way of going about it. If nothing means anything concrete any more, then nothing has any meaning any more. If nothing has any concrete and definite meaning, what is there then to build upon – or, for that matter – to stand upon? Thus, order makes room for disorder and chaos.

If merely looking at a woman in a way she disapproves of – without taking the intentions of the man in question into consideration – is enough to label someone a rapist, a predator, or whatever, there really is nothing to the word “rape”. If rape can be anything experienced by a woman which she subjectively felt was creepy or uncomfortable, there can be no possible way to objectively punish someone for the act of rape. This is frightening, when considering that punishment under law is supposed to be handed out based on objectively analysed evidence, not subjectively experienced emotions.

In the era of #metoo, one is guilty until proven innocent, instead of being innocent until proven guilty. Any protest about this very clear erosion of due process necessarily must mean, to the hive-mind and various other witch-finder generals, that one is guilty of something or other. Taking into consideration that quite a few prominent feminists have managed to delude themselves and others into believing that any and all act of heterosexual sex is rape of the woman by the man, it really is not all that far-fetched to think this could only mean, to the feminist fog-mind, that every straight man out there who has ever gotten his willy wetted by a consenting willy-wetter of no ill repute, is guilty of rape.

And me writing this is enough to get me labelled a rape-apologist. And probably a rapist as well. Which is circular logic at its very finest. Of course, I am a married man and have been in this committed relationship for close-to thirteen years. Which means that I have – according to the “all heterosexual sex is rape” squad, been raping my wife for thirteen years. Apparently, she is so weak and frail and completely under my control that she can not leave such an abusive relationship. Feminism does not hold the best view there is in regards to women, if they believe women so frail and weak as to willingly stay in a relationship where they are raped several times a month for thirteen years. On occasion more than once a day. For weeks on end. Months and years even. Oh, the horror! If rape is so terrible as feminism says that it is, I wonder why so many women seek sex, when all heterosexual sex is rape. Are women to stupid to know rape when they see it?

But, I digress.

I asked my wife about this, and she said that she was completely unaware of being a victim of rape for thirteen years and more. What a victim she is, indeed, to actually believe herself to not be a victim of rape. Consensual rape, with all the Oh God Yes-es that entails. Am I making my point clear enough? Good. Thank you. On we go.

First: water down the definition of rape so that it means anything and nothing.

Second: claim that objections to the first point is proof that all men harbour shady rape-fantasies which they can not properly curtail.

Third: use the dubious evidence from the second point to further the agenda and water down the term even more. For women must be protected from the terrible rapist males out there, which, evidently, is every man there is, considering that all heterosexual sex – consenting or no – is rape.

Fourth: rinse and repeat.

Now, I am viewed as either a rapist or a potential rapist no matter what – based solely on the undeniable might and terrible influence of my swinging cock-sword – my deeply loved and horrible rape-implement of doom. Writing about the plight of boys and men as I do only furthers this abject fuckery, as the image presented by the eternally oppressed feminist hive-mind of us terrible MRA’s is one of wishes for eternal rape, subjugation, slavery, and so and such of all women everywhere by all men everywhere. Obvious lies and clear slander is, as it always is, not a problem whatsoever when it comes from the feminist side of things.

They do not need to speak truth to power.

In fact, they are the power that need truth spoken to them.

They may speak in lies and serpent-tongues as much as they wish, and suffer no consequences for doing so. Clearly, this is something any severely oppressed and downtrodden group have always been able to do. Particularly when speaking about the ones that oppress them – or wish to oppress them.


I am thinking, in particular, about a certain professor Rebecca Sullivan, and her incredibly un-enlightened – one could even say slanderous, venomous, lying-until-you-believe-it-yourself, piss-pot, pretentious, hackneyed, dumbfuck, intellectually amputated, failed abortion, fetal alcohol syndrome, crack-baby, slobbering-on-her-shoes, short-bus-material, obviously-diversity-hire, childish interview on CBC, in which she did nothing but spread venomous and harpy-like lies about the men’s rights movement. And did so with impunity. On national fucking television. An MRA was not present, as one would expect, to counter her absolute self-indulgent full frontal rectal-examination of the issues. In this interview, she has her head stuck so far up her arse that she has to breathe through her ears and wipe her nose and butt at the same time at the same place… through placing tissue over her eyes. Eyes that, incidentally, are only able to see as far as her nose reaches. Her nose reaches her belly-button. Just about. From inside her stomach. Am I getting to vile? Good.

In this world, where men are ever so privileged and women are ever so oppressed, I struggle to understand why the ever so privileged class are not allowed to defend themselves against attack from the ever so oppressed class, on state-funded national television where one should believe that the privileged class – that is, the ruling class – would have absolute say over the sway of things going on in the state-funded television, given that the patriarchy that governs all and oppress all in equal measures (yet oppress women the most) fund the bloody thing. The more I think about it, the less sense it makes. Yet people will cling to this idea that women are eternally oppressed by men, all men everywhere, despite feminism holding so much sway and say and might and power and influence as it does. It makes not a lick of sense. Women are so oppressed that they are to be believed without a shadow of a doubt, no matter what they say. #believewomen. And do not believe men. For they are evil incarnate and the rapiest scum of the earth, even when they are good men. And any man is only a good man as long as he does whatever he can do to give his all and everything to women – that is to say – to the cause of feminism.

Men are utilities when they are not sexist rapist scum, and sexist rapist scum when they are not utilities. There are no other roles for us in the feminist utopia.

Here endeth this part of the ramble. Join me next week for more. Today I had to cook my morning-coffee in a Primus, since the electricity was gone for about two and a half hours. I also ruined my daily routine. As a result, I am grumpy at the moment of writing. There was a lot of snark written, and quite a lot of sarcasm. Just as God intended.

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  • Moiret Allegiere, 30.11.2019

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