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
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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