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Saturday, November 9, 2013

Iggy Pop: A Man I Love



Yeah, something tells me Iggy has never felt insecure about his masculinity, either.

Friday, November 8, 2013

Sunshine Mary Turns Me Off

There aren't too many people that I want to imagine having sex, but of all the people in the world that I want to imagine having sex the least, I would choose Sunshine Mary.

It isn't just because she looks like Dana Carvey as "The Church Lady".  Or that her hair and glasses remind me of my own worst fashion choices in the eighties.  Or that she writes posts such as "In Defense of Duty Sex" (Close your eyes and think of England?).  No, it's not just because she is personally fashion-challenged and garbs every hateful thing she says in a cloak of piety.  Although that's all part of it.

It's because she is incredibly mean-spirited.

In response to a post on Dalrock about sad, remorseful divorcees (or, in his words, "post marital spinsters"), in which he quotes a pathetic woman who wrote on Cafe Mom that "When I pleasure myself (which unfortunately has been necessary since the split), I always end up in tears because it reinforces how lonely I am," Miss Mary gloats: "Welp, I don’t need to “pleasure myself” since, unlike Ms. Fabulous Frivorcee, I have a husband to do that for me, but I will cop to experiencing a rather delicious thrill of schadenfreude upon reading that sentence."

She hastily amends that she is just "kidding," that "actually, her letter is heart-breakingly sad. I’m glad she wrote it if it will save others from her awful fate. If more women are honest about the reality of divorce, as opposed to the fantasy, perhaps it will serve as a warning to the herd."

Her attempt to paint herself as caring and concerned makes her initial remark all the uglier.  Plus now I am left with the unfortunate image of Sunshine Mary's husband "pleasuring" her coupled with the proximity of the phrase "a rather delicious thrill."  Blecchh.

It's the Stupid, Stupid

I have been reprimanded more than once over at manboobz for using "ablist" language by referring to some of the manosphere writers as "lunatics" or wishing that they would climb out of their basements and get "real jobs."  And today I note, with some chagrin, that someone on the bluepill reddit was offended that I dismissed the redpill boys as "morons" instead of more kindly conceding that they are "misled."  Well, in fact, I think they are both.  Morons are, after all, easily misled.

When I am in another forum, such as manboobz, I try to conform to the rules of that culture.  As a visitor, I show respect to the community over there by parsing my thoughts in ways that do not offend other members.  In my blog, I write exactly as I please, and I try to express myself as truthfully as I can.  Similarly, when I was in the middle east, I wore "hijab" out of respect to the mores of the culture that was hosting me, and did not consider myself a hypocrite in doing so.  In my own home, I am not obligated to avoid offense; I am obligated to live and speak my truth.  And I wear whatever I damn well please.  (Which today means a t-shirt covered in bird poop and riddled with cigarette burns, so there!)

Granted, my "truth" is based on my own life experience, on what I have been exposed to through reading, observing, reflecting, and just plain hanging out (as a white, bisexual middle-class woman) on this planet for nearly sixty years.  

And truthfully, I do believe that many of the New Misogynists suffer from personality disorders.  And I truthfully believe -- based on reading many, many, many comments -- that their followers are not only poorly educated, but suffer from real intellectual deficits.  

And, yes, I am somewhat contemptuous of people who do not try to better themselves.  Ignorance is not a sin, but willful ignorance is the greatest sin in my book.  If someone tells me I am wrong, and explains why, I try to exercise enough humility to consider that he/she might be right, even if that means I must (gasp!) be wrong.  Because experience tells me that when I am feeling most defensive is when I am most likely to be encountering an important learning opportunity. 

People who cling to ideas that are not only wrong, but also harmful to others, in the face of all evidence to the contrary (whether this is creationism, misogyny, denial of privilege, denial of climate change, or transphobia) are ignorant.  And that ignorance is either stemming from (1) some willfulness on their part, (2) pathological delusion, or else (3) plain old garden-variety stupidity.  

People who are not stupid, but who take advantage of others' stupidity in an attempt to gain power or prestige, are, on the other hand, bad. (Think Karl Rove / Dick Cheney and Bush Jr.)  One of the things I find most despicable about "Roosh" is that he appears to have started out in life with the requisite number of brain cells and support to have done something useful (he has a B.S. in microbiology), but he squandered his gifts because his need to be perceived as a "leader of men" (an alpha among betas) trumped his willingness to achieve success through hard work and self-discipline.  He's a very bad person who chooses to treat women badly and who encourages stupid men to follow their worst (most base) impulses.

There is so much cognitive dissonance in the manosphere, it makes my head hurt.  Sometimes I wonder if these leaders (i.e., Paul Elam) really started out believing the crap they now spew, or if they simply, over time, have acquiesced to their own lies.  Of course, in the hot house environments of manosphere blogs, where no received wisdom is challenged or examined, everyone's mind becomes duller, even the most critical (hostile) reader's. 

Look, I'm no brainiac either.  The worst thing about aging is that every day, I feel myself slipping, cognitively.  I struggle to keep abreast of the information and skills I need just to do my job, for example, and joke (?) that as soon as I retire, I will refuse to adapt to one more technological change.  Every day I am aware that I have less control over my future, so no wonder I find myself looking backwards.  I need to exercise more, both physically and mentally, just to maintain basic function.

If there's one reason I will quit following the manosphere, it is because I cannot afford to expose my already-deteriorating faculties to so much Stupid.  Ditto watching television.  In the same vein, if there's one reason I hate teaching remedial English, it is because exposing myself to so much bad writing is eroding my own writing skills.  Sometimes I find myself embroiled in some internal argument with, say, Bill Price's wife, or recoiling from some new horror from Matt Forney or JudgyBitch, and I wonder what the hell I am doing.  I should be taking a physics class or learning to crochet instead.

That's just how this tired old lady sees it on a cold, cloudy Friday morning. 
 




Thursday, November 7, 2013

Time For a New Wardrobe?

A former student flagged me down as I was crossing campus.  As is often the case, I apologized because I couldn't remember her name.  "That's OK," she said.  "It was fifteen years ago, after all."  "But still, you remembered me," I said.  "I recognized your dress," she said.

Tuesday, November 5, 2013

Modern Day Chastity Belts

So this has been making the rounds, both in manosphere and feminist places:  rape-repellant sportswear.

It's been amply pointed out that whoever engineered this getup is absolutely clueless about rape prevention, since he/she thinks that it is merely a matter of preventing a penis from entering a vagina.  In the case of stranger rape, what are the chances of this saving your life at the point of a gun?  

Still, it made me chuckle a bit as I recalled how I devised my own "anti-rape" outfit while I was traveling solo from Kabul to Istanbul when I was 22 years old.  I basically wore a lot of tight layers:  underpants, layered with a pair of stout tights, and on top of that a rubber girdle.  Over this I wore a slip, a blouse, a sweater, a jumper dress, and a coat.  

Boy, it was hot in there.  Also, going to the toilet (overflowing squat toilets, mind you, on moving trains) took me about twenty minutes and gave me quite a workout.

However, I did encounter one incident in which my home-made rape prevention outfit was called into action.  Going through eastern Turkey, the conductor fetched me out of a "family" compartment where I was happily hanging out with a troupe of friendly Kurdish folks, and forced me into the back of the train, where an empty car had just been added.  He then proceeded to (attempt to) rape me.

He didn't have much luck.  He was a relatively slight man (probably about 150 pounds) and I was a stout woman (probably about 175 pounds), and I immediately employed a kind of passive-resistance technique, curling up into a ball on the seat, like a very large hedgehog might.  He couldn't even cop a good feel;  with all my layers of snug, thick clothing, groping my breasts and buttocks was probably as exciting as patting down a well-upholstered couch.  Frustrated, he began smacking me on the shoulders (fortunately not in the head, which was the only exposed part of my body), and then finally stomped out of the car, whereupon I immediately made a beeline back to the safety of my Kurdish family.

When I complained to one of the male members of the family, he asked me wearily what I had expected, traveling alone?  At least he couldn't blame me for the immodesty of my attire.  

There were a few such scary moments to come, however careful I was to avoid being isolated or surrounded exclusively by males.  The aggressors and would-be rapists were almost always men in positions of slight authority, i.e., hotel keepers, ticket agents, museum guards.  Women, if they were in the vicinity, were usually quick to come to my defense.

I considered trying to pass as a man, but my body type (in those days, distinctly pear-shaped) and childishly round face made that difficult to achieve in western dress.  And, as a Turkish friend later pointed out, would hardly have made less of a target of rape in those parts of the world. 

Monday, November 4, 2013

Fan Mail From A Squirrel

"Ella the Squirrel" asks me, "What future do you predict for the manosphere?"

Well, Ella, first let me say I am incredibly flattered (and bemused) that you would think I have any idea.  If you have read much of this blog, you'll realize that I --- like most old fogies  Baby Boomers --- am much more engaged in reminiscing about the past (specifically, my own past) than speculating about a future, especially a hypothetical future that I am, every day, less and less likely to be around for.

However, thanks for your question.  Let me haul out my reading glasses crystal ball, and give your query an honest crack.

Hmm...  I'm not seeing much here, Ella. The future looks cloudy, with a strong possibility of rain -- whoops, that's the local weather forecast!  Never mind... 

I'm still not seeing a damn thing, Ella.  Perhaps that means that the MRM (Male Rights Movement) doesn't have a future.  Maybe because it doesn't have a present?  By that I mean it doesn't exist as a movement at all, but rather as a symptom -- a symptom of severe post-Reaganomics social / economic distress.

As you no doubt know, the "manosphere" is a loose confederation of PUAs (pick up artists and gamers), MGTOW (men going their own way), and MRAs (male rights activists, or, as Paul Elam of "A Voice for Men" would have it, MHRAs).  Feminists and other intelligent, thoughtful-type people (who may not identify themselves as feminists, but, frankly, who are) clump them together, recognizing that they are linked by a common thread of misogyny (= fear and loathing of women) w/ a big round dollop of racism.

What also unites the followers of the "manosphere" blogs is that they are really, really unhappy (frustrated) + really, really stupid.   What unites the leaders of the "manosphere" (i.e., the writers of the blogs) is they are, for the most part, utter and abject social failures w/ outsized senses of entitlement, whose only experience of (or hope for) recognition is in being followed by... well, by a bunch of desperate morons.  (And these days recognition (for whatever reason) = success, hence the phenomena of reality television "stars" and the fact that news media have become little more than celebrity gossip mills.)

The leaders of these manosphere blogs (Roosh, Roissy, Price, Elam, Forney, et al.) eke out slender livings by pandering to an audience of losers.  And I call them "losers" not in anger, but in pity:  young (or developmentally delayed) white guys who are being cast out by a global economy that no longer values them, or rather, that is no longer willing to accord them privilege simply by virtue of being white + male.  

They perceive themselves as being "overtaken" by women and by brown people.  The reality is that they are, for the first time in thousands of years, simply being forced to compete with those "minorities" on an increasingly level playing field.  (Still, it has to be pretty scary. "Who stole my cheese?"  I mean, I can only imagine...)

I am not without sympathy.  But then, I've always been kind of a softy.

I was reprimanded over at manboobz for calling these guys "dinosaurs" who were heading for extinction (because I was being too hard on the dinosaurs, as I recall).   But I will resurrect that poor analogy, nonetheless.  The "manosphere" may survive, but the so-called "movements" it purports to be incubating will not.  Oh, I'm sure there will always be a place for lonely guys to give each other dating advice, just as (for some inexplicable reason) girls keep buying Cosmopolitan magazine.  Just cuz when we're young, we're horny and clueless...

The Men's Rights Movement in its present incarnation will go the way of the KKK and the John Birch Society, increasingly marginalized and irrelevant.  The legitimate grievances of the MRM (fathers' rights, acknowledgement of sexual and domestic abuse of men) will be subsumed under the broader liberal agenda (and I predict feminists doing a lot of the legwork in those regards).  Men Going Their Own Way?  There have always been a portion of involuntary celibates (of both genders) and "hermits" (of both genders), and nothing necessarily "wrong" with that: some people just aren't suited to "coupling", yet still enjoy rich and rewarding, albeit eccentric and somewhat lonesome, lives.

Of course, to a great extent, the "manosphere" is a phenomenon of the internet.  People are (I certainly am!) still thrilled to be able to "connect" to others with similarly "esoteric" interests.  The internet has made it possible for people with relatively uncommon conditions or identities to find one another, to connect, to share, and to build on that.  

I'm not trans, but my Best Beloved is.  How we envy the trans kids today, who have so much more information (and power) at their fingertips!  How different would my SO's life have been, had she known she was so far-from-alone in the world?  The internet has in this way fueled social justice movements, by bringing people together.

Of course, the dark side to this is that the internet also brings together people who are marginalized (or feel themselves to be unfairly disadvantaged) in a very different way, and provides them with a refuge, an answer.  In the case of the "manosphere" boys, that "answer" is scapegoating women (and minorities) for their troubles.  Paradoxically, the internet also isolates, and draws already-isolated people into cults. And ultimately does them great disservice.

But the "manosphere" is ultimately likely to remain primarily an internet phenomenon because it cannot stand up to public scrutiny.  In the court of public discourse, the New Misogynists will lose.  That explains why they are so ambivalent about straying outside of the "intertubes" into the "real world."  And why, aside from their kamikaze-style leaders, most members scrupulously avoid having their real identities known:  most people are not willing to commit social suicide.  

To publicly identify oneself with this stuff (as Roosh has, in essence, admitted on more than one occasion) = to burn one's bridges forever.  Elam and Price are old farts, so who cares?  On the other hand, Roosh and Forney are relatively young -- yet they have tattooed their bigotries and hatred onto their identities more permanently and damnably than any white supremacist ever tattooed his face.  There is as yet no laser surgery powerful enough to erase the evidence they have strewn upon servers across the world that they are, simply, terrible people... 

Returning to the "patriarchy" is a lost cause.  The followers of the manosphere, however much they may enjoy indulging in false nostalgia, know that the tide of the world is irrevocably turning against them, and the few of them willing to be swept out to sea for such a lost cause will be remembered with the approximate admixture of pity and contempt as we now accord the long-dead soldiers of the Confederacy: the poor, stupid, deluded bastards!

Does this answer your question?




 



Sunday, November 3, 2013

Danielle Messia

I'm a cemetery freak, and any trip to Europe will have to include visits to Highgate in London and Pere Lachaise in Paris.  

Today I was watching the documentary "Forever," about people who visit Pere Lachaise, and was introduced to one of its residents, a singer I had never heard:  Danielle Messia.  Of course I immediately bought one of her CDs and have been listening to it all afternoon.  Although my French is pretty bad, I do love me a good chanson, and this one is damn fine: sad and brave and heart-breakingly defiant.




Why Is It Always a White Guy?

Salon featured an excerpt of Angry White Men by Michael Kimmel.  I hope it will help give me insight into the phenomena of MRAs, MGTOWs, and PUAs.

Seattle's First Singing MRA

May I introduce Uncle Fran?  He was a fixture on a popular local comedy show Almost Live, and quite possibly the first MRA folk singer.

Monday, October 28, 2013

Child Support

One of the issues the MRM brings up a lot is child support, and how unfair it is that men have to pay it.

I am not unsympathetic to men who have to pay child support for children they never wanted.  I think it is unethical for a woman to get pregnant on purpose (or accidentally on purpose) when she knows that the male partner is not on board.  However unethical that is, it is not illegal, nor could it be.  What they tend to overlook is that the support is to the child, not the woman, and no one reasonable can disagree that the child is the one utterly blameless party in these fiascos.

I am also sympathetic to parents who legitimately struggle to make their payments because, for example, they have lost their jobs.  States need to respond in adequate and timely manners to adjust their responsibilities and help keep them out of arrears.

Notice that I have carefully used the term "parents" (not "fathers") above.  That is because women pay child support, too, a fact that we often overlook, although it is increasing (as are the penalties against "deadbeat" moms).  The custodial guardian is not always the man; it's not even necessarily either of the biological parents.  It's sometimes the child's grandmother, or another relative.

I was reminded of that today when I overheard a female student, who appeared to be in her early twenties, tell a classmate how happy she was to have finally found a job that would enable her to start paying her child support regularly.  She was $7000 in arrears, a significant sum for a girl working as a waitress while trying to graduate from college.  What struck me was her positive and determined attitude about her responsibilities.  She didn't think the system was unfair; she didn't seem to have an ounce of resentment.  On the contrary, she was clearly looking forward to meeting her obligations.

Saturday, October 26, 2013

Russell Brand Redux

Russell Brand is on fire in this interview.

I agree with everything he says.  But I'm still going to vote.

Thursday, October 24, 2013

On the Lack of Domestic Violence Programs for Men

Gosh, I get tired of hearing MRAs whine about the lack of shelters for male victims of domestic violence.

Some years ago, a younger and more eager I spent a long dark winter in rural Colorado volunteering for victims of domestic abuse and sexual assault.  Mainly this consisted of being called in the middle of the night to drive twenty or thirty miles to meet a strange woman at a desolate McDonalds or in the back room of a police station.  It also involved accompanying women if their cases went to court.  As an advocate, I held hands, explained legal procedures, made referrals to social services, and fetched coffee (in other words, provided moral support).  The area in which I was living had an appalling rate of DV.  Unemployment was high (end of a local shale oil boom), couples were stranded in their houses for weeks on end due to the frigid temperatures, and alcoholism and drug abuse were rampant. 

It didn't take long before I burned out.  I probably imagined I was going to help pluck women like Tracey Thurman from the jaws of death, but my experience was that most of the victims were simply not very sympathetic characters, nor were they entirely "innocent" in terms of their roles in instigating violent squabbles.  Many of them had mental illness or chemical dependency issues that no amount of well-intentioned feminist theory or police intervention could address.  And most of them didn't want the kind of very limited help I could provide.  

Once they had been stitched up and sobered up, most of them made beelines back to their SOs.  There were so many things wrong with their lives (boiling down to poverty + an utter lack of imagination) that their relationships with their husbands or boyfriends were the only sources of stability and "love" that they knew, and even when that relationship was as dysfunctional as hell, it was what they could count on. 

The area I was in didn't have a shelter at the time.  Instead, we relied on a string of "safe houses" which were the modest abodes of volunteers like myself.  The unsung heroines who opened their homes as havens were periodically exposed (often by the very women they harbored), so we were always scrambling for more. It was exhausting, unrewarding effort for little payoff, and although I admired the director and her valiant team -- all unpaid volunteers BTW -- I soon conceded that I was not the right person for this particular job.

I know from personal experience that men, too, are assaulted by women.  A few years ago I dated a man who had a history of being struck by his female partners.   He recounted one prolonged argument with a girlfriend which had culminated in her "cold cocking" him in the head with a telephone, knocking him senseless.  He didn't press charges, and I was appalled to learn that this episode had hardly diminished his attraction to her -- although it was, in retrospect, a kind of red flag in terms of our own prospects.  (In fact, although I was never remotely tempted to assault him myself, he was so maddeningly passive-aggressive that I broke up with him within a few tempestuous months.)

As these anecdotes suggest, I am no saint.  I am impatient and easily frustrated by people who can't, or won't, take a strong stance for themselves.  And I recognize the line between victim and perpetrator can get mighty blurry when it comes to domestic violence: in most cases I was involved with, the woman was just as likely to have "provoked" the violent altercations that resulted in her fleeing her partner.   The problem was the size/strength differential that resulted in "him" with a scratch down the side of his face, and "her" with a broken jaw. Most of the male "perps" were not so much "evil" as really, really dumb -- too dumb to recognize how trapped they were in their own cycles of inchoate rage, dependency, helplessness, and lashing out -- despite repeated, predictable negative consequences...  200 pound toddlers, for the most part.

Of course, regardless of gender, or relative culpability, all people need refuges when they are at risk of injury in their homes.  I just don't want to be the person to create and staff these shelters. 

So why are the MRAs who demand male DV shelters pissed off that feminists like me haven't made that happen yet?  


Well, why haven't you done anything more than complain?  Paul Elam and John Hembling are paying themselves salaries with the money some of you are donating!  It's been years without any "activism" beyond harassing feminists and one very lackluster demonstration.  Why aren't any of you challenging AVfM's handling of your contributions?  Could it be that you don't really care as much about showing "compassion for men and boys" as you do "fucking up [women's] shit"?
 
Listen, guys, I'll be the first to donate $20, canned food, and a big box of toiletries.  You only need to get out from behind your computers, and start raising some funds.  In my neck of the woods, there are a number of thrift stores that support shelters for women, so there's a suggestion for you.  Put down your gym weights, pick up your tool boxes, and start renovating that safe house for teh menz that your community so desperately needs.  You can do it!  (And if you need advice or support, I'm sure you can find some nice feminists to help you -- you have only to ask.)

Just for God's sake quit your bloody whining before I [sarcasm alert] really give you something to whine about!






Saturday, October 19, 2013

New to the Manosphere?

A succinct and temperate sympathetic introduction to the Men's Rights Movement from the Daily Beast.  Note that most of the folks at manboobz were highly critical of the piece -- especially of its kid gloves treatment of The Spearhead.  The consensus was that it emphasized MRM's "legitimate" grievances and downplayed the violently misogynistic rhetoric that is the MRM's most salient characteristic.  Still, it gives the newcomer some basic information.  Ironically, given how gently the author, R. Tod Kelly, approaches them, the MRAs are busy hating on this article.

Friday, October 18, 2013

Matt Forney Can't Go Home Again


I think there is a general consensus that Matt Forney is a Terrible Person, no?

After reading one of his recent posts, it's also clear that he is a Complete Wuss.

In "The Kingdom of Heaven is Within," he recounts a terrifying experience in which, while visiting a convenience store in upstate New York, he is forced to interact with a black guy.  Forney knows the black guy is "a bum" because he is "clad in a plaid shirt and dirty jeans."  Forney assumes he is being "hustled" because he is "dressed like a rich guy."  (Now I've seen at least three pictures of Forney, and in none of them does he look like someone who has more than two nickels to rub together.  If this guy was indeed targeting Forney in order to menace him, it is more likely because he sensed Forney's fear, which made him seem vulnerable.)

 Forney reports that his old Rochester neighborhood is becoming gentrified, whilst the "sprawling ghetto" surrounding it is being invaded by "scum" "emboldened" to "terrorize" nice [white?] neighborhoods.

As far as I know, Forney has only lived in three states: New York, North Dakota, and Oregon (and the latter two quite briefly).  However, based on this vast experience, he can declare that the entire nation is quickly morphing into one huge coast-to-coast Portland.  [Sigh! If only!]

Forney feels himself to be a stranger in a strange land... "like a soldier [!] returning home from a war to find the same people doing the same things, still going nowhere in life..."

The reader wonders how a few months tasting the music scene and railing about fat girls in Portland equates to a tour of combat, but the part of "still going nowhere in life" would seem consistent with Forney's own lack of direction.   

Forney muses, "While I'm a success in my personal life [again, I really need some photographic evidence here], there's one urge I'll never be able to fulfill: the desire to belong."  

I'm such a softie that I find Forney's claim of "personal success" heart-breakingly delusional. 

Anyway, having had this epiphany -- that he will never belong anywhere -- Forney announces he will be undertaking a second hitch-hiking trip, even though "the optimism, the joy of discovery is gone" (since he already knows the whole country is actually just Portland after all).

It's not simple curiosity or desire to visit "California, the Grand Canyon, the South and whatnot [sic]... " that sends ol' Forney down that ribbon of highway, but rather "a compulsion to insert myself into stressful, life-threatening situations... because I'm a junkie searching for an adrenaline high."

(BTW, unless Forney is planning to bungie-jump into the Grand Canyon, I can assure him that a visit to our national treasure is actually a pretty low-risk venture.  I was there a few months ago, along with about a dozen other seniors in various stages of decrepitude.)

Then Forney adds, "And because if you feel like an outsider no matter where you are, one place is as good as the next." 

Oh really?  Cuz that's not been true in my experience.  For example, having lived in both Italy and Saudi Arabia, I can attest that I found Italy to be a much better place to be an "outsider" in.  Just take my word on this.

Forney caps this post by musing, "If you romanticize this kind of thing [?], I'm pretty sure you're missing the point."  Of course, romanticizing his own lack of direction, his inability to connect with people, to establish or even maintain relationships, is exactly what he is doing here.

Now why do I call Matt Forney a wuss?  Well, I'll have you know that I myself was rather an adventurous traveler back in the day.  For example, when I was twenty-two -- younger than the intrepid MF himself -- I traveled solo from Kabul to Istanbul on buses and third class trains.  ("Midnight Express," anyone?) And I was a girl.  Sure, there were some tense moments, which made for great "stories" later, but I can proudly declare that I never "lost" my "bearings" the way Forney did when he was approached by a black man on a busy street in Rochester in broad daylight.

Thursday, October 17, 2013

20/20 Manosphere Story

In the event anyone wanders over here who hasn't already heard:  20/20 will be doing a story on the manosphere tomorrow (Friday) night.  As I commented over at manboobz, at least my friends and family will learn I haven't been making this shit up:  the New Misogynists are really A Thing.  Of course, the MRM are already complaining that Elizabeth Vargas was unethical and "hostile" in her interview with Paul Elam --  Sunshine Mary declaring it a "crucifixion", and Roosh speculating that his interview will paint him "an outlaw rapist."  Bound to be fun to watch.

Monday, October 14, 2013

Irreversible


Note bene:  Since posting this, Forney removed the image I refer to, and also wrote that "a bunch of feminists" (who, me?) had complained about it -- which just demonstrated how "weak" women were.  What impressed me was that it showed how Forney is constantly crawling the internet and twitter for any references to himself.  Yeah, he's that narcissistic and/or starved for attention!

Does anyone recognize the image below, of a woman entering a sottopassagio to cross a Parisian street?  It's from a 2002 French film, "Irreversible."  The movie concerns the brutal rape and beating of a young woman, and the aftermath of that trauma on her boyfriend. The prolonged (real time) rape scene which follows this image is so harrowing that it is scored into my brain.  The night I saw this film in a theatre, several members of the audience had to step out into the lobby.


Post image for Matt Forney’s Podcast Extravaganza, Episode Seven: The Game Within
I hadn't thought about that movie much until I stumbled upon this image on Matt Forney's blog (stolen, out of context, as a decorative graphic for promotion of his podcasts or some such nonsense).

To know what this image is meant to represent -- a woman unknowingly and literally walking into hell -- and to see it used so casually took me aback.   I wouldn't expect Forney's readers to recognize it; I doubt many of them are foreign film buffs.  But Forney somehow found it and planted it in his blog, and I doubt it was an accident.  How could Forney have purloined this image without knowing its origin?  Or had he, at some point, watched the movie and thought, "Wow, that chick is hawt!"?  WTF is WRONG WITH THESE GUYS?! 








Friday, October 11, 2013

Brainwashing

Someone once told me that life was too short to read bad books.  It's good advice, really, one that I take ever-more to heart (as my life grows ever-shorter), and can apply to many areas of life (food, friends, clothing).  But maybe it doesn't go far enough. 

There is an interview in Salon today with a film-maker who claims Fox News "brain-washed" her dad.

Whether we call it "brain-washing" or not, the ubiquity of the media, which is designed to arouse our emotions while bypassing our frontal cortexes, powerfully shapes our world views. 

It makes me reflect on how young men who spend hours a day steeped in the "manosphere" are being taught to hate women.  I know many of them will say they only read bloggers like Roosh or Heartiste for their entertainment value, or to pick up "dating tips," but a steady diet of the manosphere is gonna take its toll on their psyches.  Hell, reading some of those blogs has taken a toll on my psyche, and I am an extremely critical -- nay, hostile -- reader.  All that loathing of women!  How can I not internalize some portion of that even as I dismiss it for the garbage it is?  How can it not make me feel just a little less safe and a little less worthy?

Nowadays, it's all about filtering our information, and making a continuous, conscious attempt to swim away from the sources of toxic input.

Sunday, October 6, 2013

Response to an Anonymous Roosh Reader

A couple of weeks ago, an anonymous reader left a comment on my post, "On PUA."

He acknowledges "negativity and hate in the manosphere," but claims "There's no workable alternative" for men seeking advice on how to be men in a society that views "masculinity" as "inherently evil."

The existence of the "manosphere" is evidence that there are thousands of young men who feel marginalized, who need "safe spaces" in which to discuss their issues.  There is indeed more to the conversation than simply admonishing young white men to "check their privilege."  I see no evidence that the majority of women believe men are "inherently evil," although the majority of women are, to some degree, afraid of some men's predilection to violence.  May I refer you to the redoubtable Louis CK on this matter?

This is how I see it after fifty years struggling to be "a woman" on the planet:  There isn't nearly as much difference between the sexes as we like to imagine...  In general, men and women have essentially the same needs and desires: for engaging work, a sense of belonging to a community, a certain degree of physical comfort, intimate relationships.  These commonalities bring us together in the family of man. 

However, the "manosphere" denies the commonalities and instead promulgates the crudest stereotypes of gendered behavior.  Hence, the edict that "femininity" connotes subservience, delicacy and/or cunning/manipulation, whereas "masculine" men are dominant, muscular, don't eat quiche, etc.  (In fact, some men are gentle and nurturing; some women are aggressive and competitive; most people are happiest, most complete and most self-fulfilled when allowed to exhibit both "feminine" and "masculine" qualities).

BTW, as a woman, I have, over the years, also sought advice on how to "perform" my gender.  Most of the advice I got was crap, too: confusing, condescending, ultimately doing more harm than good to my psyche.

As a feminist, I reject social strait-jackets based on gender.  Feminism is the promotion of equality among the sexes, not a dystopian "women-on-top" social scenario.  It means that men and women bear equal responsibilities (yes, I include military service here), as well as equal opportunities.   

But getting back to the heart of your angst, which is how boys learn to be men in a society where many of the traditional masculine traits are no longer valued, and where many boys are growing up without a strong male role model?  I'm afraid I have no easy answer to that.  Your generation (I assume you are in your twenties), are going to have to make your own path here.  The good news is that, for the first time in milennia, you get to define your own masculinity.  In doing so, Quit looking backwards.  The false nostalgia promulgated by the manosphere is a path to obsolescence and further alienation. My best advice is to quit worrying about being "a man" (or "a woman") and instead focus on defining yourself as "a human."

Go outside of your head a little bit.  Leave the echo chamber that is the internet behind.  Literally, go outside into the air and sunshine, and look around.  Talk to other people (old, young, male, female) and really listen to them.  Connect to humanity.  Find your professional vocation by experimenting fearlessly and energetically.  Exercise patience, but maintain faith that good things (including a girlfriend) will find you when you are open to the possibilities.  Develop your core values; it helps to be judicious about what you expose your mind to.  Recognize that the best intimate relationships are based on sharing common core values.

By the way, I am shocked (although somehow not surprised) that you believe "social justice efforts are adding to the problem instead of solving it."  Honestly examine what you mean by "the problem" (whose problem?  yours?)   Cuz I guarantee that millions of women, people of color, disabled people, poor people will agree that their lives have certainly improved as the result of the past fifty years of "social justice efforts." 


Friday, October 4, 2013

Feminist English Teachers!

Over at the Men's Rights Subreddit this morning, a high school student is plaintively soliciting help in dealing with his English teacher who is "very feminist."  Of course, because I am an English teacher (who also happens to be "very feminist"), this catches my attention.

The poster makes a number of claims I find quite improbable unusual:  first, that the boys are "often served detentions for being too quiet during class."  While I can imagine disciplining students for being disruptive, I've never heard of a teacher forcefully requiring students to speak in class -- although I have (gently) reprimanded students for sleeping in class.

He goes on to complain that "she started reading us articles about how men are rape creatures and are useless other than to the extent of conception [sic]."   When he complained, he was treated to another unjust detention.

BTW, in my world, spending time outside of class with students is more punitive for me than it is for them.  And another BTW, why is the teacher "reading" to her students?  Even in high school, aren't the students capable of reading for themselves?  But I digress...

What's becoming apparent to me is that this English teacher has her work cut out for her.

His third complaint is that "Every single paper that is submitted by the guys are usually barely passing [sic]."   That the male students have previously enjoyed extremely high GPAs clearly proves her anti-male gender bias.

The subsequent commentators have been predictably sympathetic ("the bitch!").  Helpful suggestions include telling the poster to record classes on his cell phone in order to provide "evidence" against the teacher.  That may or may not be permitted by school policy, but it makes sense.  I myself would love to hear what the instructor actually said, and in what context she conveyed the idea men were only sources of genetic material.  Did he abruptly wake up while she was quoting the author of some dystopian or radical feminist fantasy?  Or was he still dreaming when he "heard" her say that?  Of course, the third alternative, that she actually said and meant what he attributes to her, is possible too (possible, but not very damn likely).  In which case, and it can be proven, her head will roll...

Another commentator warned that, if the student approached administration, he not attribute the conflict to the instructor's being "a feminist... who hates men." Good advice.

That I have a liberal bias is manifest, and I freely cop to it in class.  When students ask me what I think about a current event, for example, I will tell them (and always with the proviso, "This is my opinion").  As a teacher, I do consider the extent my personal biases affect my students, especially in choosing topics to read and write about.  Sometimes, I frankly enjoy the authority to require students to think about and discuss topics I am interested in.  On the other hand, I use caution with material that might be interpreted as "male bashing" or derogatory about non-western cultures (my own culture I can freely disparage).  I try very hard to avoid writing prompts that are likely to elicit views that will upset me, too, because (1) I really, really don't want to dislike my students (after all, we're stuck with each for a whole quarter), and (2) marking papers is disagreeable enough a task without getting angry or sad about the content of those papers.  As you can imagine, just identifying "appropriate" topics can be a big part of my planning process.  Then add to that the chore of finding topics that are sufficiently "interesting" to inspire an "emerging adult" to write AND a mid-life adult to read and you can see why it is an ongoing challenge.

Anyway, next week I'm going to show them the recent documentary "Seeking Asian Female," and have them write about the mail order bride industry.  Because many of my students are from countries that are the source of many "mail order brides" (China, Vietnam, Ukraine), this could be a highly sensitive topic.

Getting back to class participation:  I have to constantly curb myself from calling on male students more than female students.  If there is a bias in that regard, it is toward the boys, mainly because they tend to be more assertive and fearless in expressing opinions.  It's rare for me to have a female student who challenges me directly or who "hogs" class attention.  What is more problematical for me are students that want to express their opinions without having done the relevant reading...

Monday, September 23, 2013

Christoph Waltz Teaches You the Art of Seduction!

Austrian actor Christoph Waltz poking fun of PUA here.  Best parody of PUA since Christopher Walken's hilarious "The Continental" sketches on SNL.

All kidding aside, I am utterly infatuated with this guy...  and a little Internet research proves I am not alone

For a seriously erotic (yet still quite funny) scene, watch this.  Who knew 16th century Anabaptists were so hot?  In fact, this clip inspired me to read a history of the Muenster Rebellion, and to order the movie it's from at great expense from Germany (even though there are no subtitles and I don't speak German). 

This scene rivals the infamous "eating scene" from "Tom Jones" in its bawdy celebration of our carnal appetites.  "Bad boys" whose mischievous rogue appeal is based on wit and humor are seductive -- especially when they don't seem to take themselves too seriously. 

Oh, and just one more, a kissing scene with a very young and devastatingly pretty Waltz as Tristan.  I may have to put this on continuous loop...

Tuesday, September 17, 2013

Matt Forney Declares Jihad on Female Self Confidence!

According to Matt Forney, American women have way too much self-esteem, and it is killing his boner.  (Well, not literally, he hastily amends -- he'd still "bang" a cocky bitch if her figure was "slamming" -- "but a crucial part of the attraction [would be] lost.")

Apparently, the state of Matt Forney's libido is crucial to the health of the State at large  Therefore, "There needs to be a massive and concerted war on female self-esteem." 

You know, it all kinda makes sense when you consider that only a woman with pitifully low self-esteem would be attracted to a guy like Matt Forney.

I work with a lot of international students who tend to believe that Americans in general, of both genders, suffer from an excess of self-esteem, and sometimes I am inclined to agree with them.  It's certainly become common for Baby Boomers to complain about the Millenials' inflated opinion of themselves, which goes hand in hand with their inflated senses of entitlement.  (Although sometimes I reckon that's just what the old folks always say about the young'uns, and the fact is, I can't get too exorcised about it:  Time has a way of bringing us all down a peg or two.)

Forney also writes, "Most girls’ so-called achievements, the ones they take pride in, are complete jokes," citing as examples liberal arts degrees and "fluff" jobs in "human resources" or elementary education. (What's with these guys and their fixation on women in human resources?  I mean, I know dozens of women who all work, and none of them are in HR.)   Anyway, I'd hate to see family farms and the military try to function a week without the cadres of women who are employed in these so-called "masculine" fields.

I'd also love to know exactly how Mr. Forney makes his livelihood.  I'm willing to bet it is not in a STEM field nor in mining or construction.  Cab driver, maybe?  Fork lift operator?  Parking garage attendant?  Something along those lines, I imagine...

"If every man lost his job tomorrow, the country would collapse."  I wouldn't count on that.  Didn't WWII prove that women are perfectly capable of picking up the slack when necessary, or was Rosie the Riveter just liberal propaganda?

"If girls want to play in our world, they'll have to obey our rules."  Ha ha ha!  First of all, the world does not belong to a handful of angry, sexually frustrated, unskilled men (not even when they're white).  Your "rules" are irrelevant.  If the world belongs to anyone, it is to those who are flexible, forward-thinking, and who can adapt to a rapidly changing playing field.  And that does not describe the standard ass-backward reactionary who frequents your blog.

Forney states that "Insecurity is integral to femininity" and that "Insecurity is the natural state of woman."  Hmm.  I posit that "insecurity" is the natural state of all rational human beings. 

Forney reasons that women would be frightened without men to protect them.  I counter that this is true only to the degree that women need men to protect them from other men.  I haven't been physically threatened by another female since Chantelle threatened to beat me up after 8th grade gym class. And come to think of it, most men rely on other men (military, police, etc.) for protection too. 

"Confidence doesn't give men erections; vulnerability does."  In my experience, both men and women are attracted to partners who exhibit both qualities in appealingly appropriate measures.  Confidence is not the opposite of vulnerability.  Anyway, I've never worried about my ability to give a man an erection; it strikes me as just about the easiest part of relating to men.

Then Forney takes a U turn in his own logic, arguing that the problem is not, after all, a woman's self-confidence, but rather her "inborn insecurity," which causes her to view a man as "a life support system for a penis, an accoutrement... incapable of viewing men as human beings."  So, make up your mind, Matt Forney!  Are we too confident, or not confident enough?

The essay goes on, but I can't be bothered to do more than skim the rest.  Essentially, I am left with the impression that Matt Forney really, really wishes he could play the guitar -- or meet some extremely insecure woman who could -- and they could pursue "worthy" careers together as street buskers.

Monday, September 16, 2013

Abortion, a Male Perogative?

Over at Return of Kings this week, there are two posts about abortion running concurrently:  "How to Convince a Girl to Get an Abortion" by someone who calls himself "bacon," and "How to Fight Abortion" by regular ROK contributor Athlone McGinnis. 

The bottom line: Abortion is always the woman's fault, and it's always wrong for a woman to seek an abortion unless the responsible male partner wants her to -- in which case, it is wrong for her to refuse to comply.    

I really don't believe most of the readership at ROK cares two figs about the rights of fetuses, and in fact these are the kinds of articles ROK readers have been complaining about. (Such downers!)  What they do care about is controlling women, and particularly women's sexuality.  In that respect they are no different than many "mainstream" conservatives and religious fundamentalists. 

I wish there were more non-permanent birth control options for men (and for women). Nobody should be forced to parent against his or her will, and I have a low opinion of women who accidentally-on-purpose let themselves get pregnant in order to secure commitment from men (and yes, this happens).  I understand condoms are a desensitizing drag, and, as Nina Hartley recently pointed out, not ideal for female partners either, but for fuck's sake, grow up and quit railing against reality.  Biology is often unfair.  And it strikes me that Roosh, with his much vaunted degree in microbiology ("a man of science" indeed!) could have chosen to apply his training to help develop better contraceptive methods instead of squandering his life promoting irresponsible sexual behavior.

Friday, August 9, 2013

The voice of men, the voices of despair

I spent the sunny afternoon at a public pool near my home.  Not surprisingly, given that it was an exceptionally warm day in Seattle, the pool was filled with families.  The density of splashing, shrieking youngsters frustrated my effort to swim laps, but I enjoyed observing the kids nevertheless.  Although I don't have a family and children myself, I sometimes find a kind of vicarious pleasure in watching other families enjoying themselves together.  I was especially moved by several affectionate, attentive fathers interacting with their little ones.  It gives me a kind of hope.  After all, one does not need to be a biological parent in order to feel invested in the youngest generation.

When I got home, I thought about the men of the manosphere, who are so angry and hateful towards women.  Although I frequent manboobz, the site which delights in mocking misogyny, I sometimes feel at odds with the prevailing tone of dominant commenters.  The more I follow the manosphere (Voice for Men, Heartiste, Roosh), the more compassion I feel for the young misogynists.  It's easy to ridicule them, because most of what they say is ridiculous.  It's easy to be outraged by them, because most of what they say is outrageous.  It's easy to be frightened by them, because they are simmering with anger.  And then it's comforting to reassure myself that their ideas are, well, after all, pretty silly.  They pretend they are a movement, but they spend so much of their energy squabbling with one another that it's evident that they couldn't organize themselves out of a paper bag. 

But more and more, what I hear behind their hateful words, their virulent disdain for all women (and most other men), is despair.  Roosh and his ilk (Matt Forney, Paul Elam, "Roissy," et al.) are men who have pretty much given up on the one thing -- other than engaging work -- which makes life meaningful: intimate, committed relationships with others.

A couple of weeks ago, Roosh was positively distraught when Mark Minter abandoned the manosphere ship to marry a gal he'd met online.  His sense of betrayal was palpable.  Even his followers were a bit baffled that he took it so much to heart.

But someone like Roosh has nothing else except his convictions, as delusional and self-destructive as they are.  He has no relationships beyond his tenuous online connection with the men and boys who echo his nihilistic philosophy.  He is so out of sync with the cultural tide that he must seek refuge in ancient texts, to constantly imagine that the way it was is the way it should be now.  

Today he posted, in his typically self-aggrandizing and melodramatic fashion, that "every man dies by his own ideas."  He views himself as a martyr to his own ideals.  But relentless, inchoate rage is not a "cause."  It is a symptom of a personality disorder. 

I reflect on the mothers and fathers I watched frolicking in the pool today.  Whether they are "happy" in their marriages I have no idea.  I have never been convinced that "happiness" should be a person's primary aim.  I'm not sure even what "happiness" means.  I can say that they all looked thoroughly engaged with one another.  I thought, "This is Real Life."  And by merely observing from the sidelines, I felt myself part of it:  the Family of Man.  And I pity the men of the manosphere, who have learned to hate what they have come to believe they cannot have: intimate connection, a sense of purpose, community membership, an investment in the world around them.


Monday, August 5, 2013

Is Roosh Even Human?

In a recent forum, Roosh and his minions were amused by a well-publicized news story about two women who drove into a lake and drowned.  What they found particularly hilarious was that one of the women, in a panic, attempted to dial "911" on her cell phone.  Because women are so stupid.  And because women deserve to die, anyway.

Back when I was living in Louisiana, I was in the throes of my "bridge phobia."  Driving on bridges and overpasses triggered severe panic attacks.  (I still get a little anxious about bridges, but I managed to "desensitize" myself once I moved back to Seattle -- otherwise, I wouldn't be able to drive anywhere!)

I've had nightmares of being trapped in a car underwater ever since the Chappaquiddick scandal, when Mary Jo Kopechne was abandoned to such a fate by a drunken and cowardly Edward Kennedy.  And who can forget the death of Jessica Savitch, whose date drove into a canal in New Hope?  Mired in mud upside down, the doors of their car could not be opened.

Every time I had to drive across a lake or bayou in Louisiana, I unrolled the driver's side window and mentally rehearsed swimming out.  I tightened my muscles in anticipation, and visualized bursting to the surface.  The problem was that the windows of my Toyota were pretty small, and I wasn't convinced I could squeeze through.  So there I would be on the Lake Pontchartrain Causeway -- which is 24 miles long, mind you -- gripping the steering wheel, sweating profusely despite the wind rushing through the speeding vehicle, and roundly cursing myself the whole way for being such a lard ass.

I still occasionally read of people, often late at night, driving off embankments or bridges and drowning in their cars.  And I still think it's prudent to unroll the window when crossing bodies of water.

The story was tragic, but the real horror here is the psychology of people who find such stories risible, or evidence of the inherent inferiority of the victims. 

When we hear about terrible accidents, we naturally try to learn how to avoid them (or how to survive them if they befall us despite our best efforts).  We struggle to find meaning and purpose in what is otherwise random horror.  We may look for ways to "blame the victim" in order to deny the possibility that such a fate could ever visit us.  We grieve for the families and friends, imagining or remembering the sudden loss of our own loved ones.  But regardless, on some level, we can't escape being reminded of the fragility of our own existences.  Such stories are occasions for somber reflection.

But a person like Roosh is not one of "us," is he?  He is a human who is devoid of humanity.

It's not exactly accurate to say that people like Roosh lack empathy.  In fact, he has enough empathy to actually take pleasure in the suffering of others (specifically women, the targets of his inchoate, inexplicable, relentless rage).

His isolation from the cloak of humanity is his tragedy. And although I have just finished reading The Wisdom of Psychopaths, in which author Kevin Dutton argues that psychopathic elements contribute to the survival of cultures, I cannot imagine what purpose the existence of someone like Roosh serves in this world.  

Perhaps one must simply accept that there is no purpose.  Perhaps the best we can do is to try to identify the potential dangers of dark mountain roads or dark charismatic personalities, at the same time resigning ourselves to the fact that these are simply parts of the mystery of life.

Monday, June 10, 2013

A Man I Love: Steve Shives

Courtesy of "carnation," a commenter on Manboobz, two videos by Steve Shives:





While the MRM has predicted it's quickly reaching a tipping point, poised to go "mainstream" and become a real force for social change, this is what is happening instead:  vigorous pushback from... well, men:  serious men (that is, men to take seriously).

I know I've said I don't care for baseball caps on grown men, but for Mr. Shives, I'll make an exception.  In fact, I'd love to buy this guy a drink right now!

Saturday, June 8, 2013

ROK: A Kinder, Gentler Place?

Roosh V is "on hiatus," his exact whereabouts unknown.  Maybe he's in Moldova learning the fine art of gun-running.  He is definitely casting about for his next scam.  

Meanwhile, is it just my imagination, or is Roosh V's "other blog," Return of Kings, becoming a kinder, gentler place?  It seems to be filling up with articles about how to set up a "bachelor" kitchen, healthy eating "on the run," the joys of the great outdoors, and the relative merits of "soylent" as a food substitute.  One today exhorted readers to quit whining about their jobs and start using their leisure time more fruitfully!  Plus a very idiosyncratic list of coma-inducing songs that are supposed to be conducive to lovemaking (see David Futrelle's take on that one.

Even Matt Forney recently devoted an entire post to the art of shaving using mineral oil instead of shaving cream (which believe- you-me I read with interest).  Of course the comments section is another matter entirely...  Tread there at your own peril. 

Aspiring PUAs Watch Out

Garfunkel and Oates have got your number (and the bimbos they lust after).  Could these girls be cuter?

Tuesday, June 4, 2013

Welcome Oh Warrior Princess!


Anyway...  That these issues are being raised for scrutiny and debate is a positive step, I suppose, even if it feels like kicking over a rock.  Exposing the depth and breadth of misogyny is the first step in eradicating it.  

Twenty years ago I accompanied my ex and his children to Disneyland, and I hated almost every single minute of it.  (To be fair to Walt and his "imagineers," my misery had less to do with the park and more to do with the relationship.)  At one point, sobbing bitterly on a bench under the entrance banner that read "The Happiest Place on Earth," I looked up to see a small throng of Japanese tourists taking my picture.  So at least the opportunity for an ironic picture was not lost.

Anxious to escape the heat and glare, I agreed to ride through "Pirates of the Caribbean" with eight year old Suzanne.  "This is my favorite ride," Suzanne confided.  "Except for this part..."  she added sotto voce, as we bobbed into a tableau of drunk, lusty brigands seizing a struggling young maid with lecherous intent (ignoring the fat, blowsy blonde who was clearly disappointed not to be raped herself).

Suzanne closed her eyes tightly until we had passed through this scene.  "I wish that part wasn't there," she reiterated.  "Otherwise, it would be the perfect ride."  I had to agree, but it took a child to remind me of what I had always known, yet had somehow learned not to see:  Sexual assault isn't funny and it isn't fun.   It's scary and degrading, and even a small girl knows that it could really happen to her if she is careless (or merely unlucky).

Rape culture means that there is no direction in which a little girl can gaze without being reminded of the vulnerability her sex imposes, not even on a kiddie ride.  

Clearly, a number of people besides Suzanne and me didn't like watching animatronic pirates violating animatronic wenches, and these people weren't just humorless feminists, either: plenty of disgruntled dads complained too.  Under considerable consumer pressure -- and much to the chagrin of certain guys-who-just-don't-get-it -- Disneyland and Disneyworld removed the "sexual slavery" element from the attraction a few years ago. So now Suzanne can take her own daughter on "the best ride ever," and neither will have to squeeze her eyes shut for any of it...

This week I've been following with dismay the abuse Twittered upon Lindy West following her televised debate with comedian Jim Norton.  To be fair, Norton is not egging his fans on.  He seems genuinely concerned about the issues that were raised -- even if he's not willing to concede (yet) that misogyny is bad for comedy.  What is clear in his twitters is that he doesn't want to be a Bad Guy, but he doesn't want to be seen as "backing down" either.  To which I would echo Ms. West in asking him, On which side of history to you wish to stand?

How anyone could deny the existence of "rape culture" in the wake of the comments left by scores of anonymous white doods... is beyond me.  I mean really fellas:  You deny "rape culture" exists by claiming some women are too ugly to rape?  You disagree with someone, so you describe in some detail how you'd like to impale her on a spit?  You don't want women to think you're rapists, so you conjure up images of the most grotesque and sadistic fantasy? 
Yet sometimes the anger and hate really overwhelm me.  After all, there are real men behind those threatening pseudonymous comments, and chances are that some of them are moving through the same public spaces as I am.  That's damn scary if you think about it.  (Which is, of course, exactly how they want women to feel.)   So when I read today that Kristin Beck, a former Navy Seal, has come out as a trans woman, I was, well, thrilled.  I for one welcome some real warrior princesses on "Team Femme!"   

 

Sunday, June 2, 2013

You Say You Want A Revolution...

If you're as old as I am, you can probably remember where you were the day John Lennon was shot.  I was alone, in a bathtub in Genoa.  I started to cry so uncontrollably that I aspirated water, and wound up performing a self-administered Heimlich maneuver by hauling my sobbing, dripping carcass over the edge of the tub.  Not pretty!   

Anyway, sometimes when I read these manosphere guys I find myself thinking about John Lennon, and about his personal evolution, tragically cut short, from self-confessed wife-beater to a kind of proud Uber Beta Man, and of the following song in particular.  Note that this version, which is laid-back-to-the-point-of-lethargic, is an early "out-take."



You say you want a revolution
Well, you know
We all want to change the world
You tell me that it's evolution
Well, you know
We all want to change the world
But when you talk about destruction
Don't you know that you can count me out
Don't you know it's gonna be all right
All right, all right

You say you got a real solution
Well, you know
We'd all love to see the plan
You ask me for a contribution
Well, you know
We're doing what we can
But when you want money
For people with minds that hate
All I can tell is brother you have to wait
Don't you know it's gonna be all right
All right, all right
Ah

Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah...

You say you'll change the constitution
Well, you know
We all want to change your head
You tell me it's the institution
Well, you know
You better free your mind instead
But if you go carrying pictures of chairman Mao
You ain't going to make it with anyone anyhow
Don't you know it's gonna be all right
All right, all right
All right, all right, all right
All right, all right, all right

Friday, May 31, 2013

Punctuation is Misandry!

Over at Captain Capitalism, a rave review of Roosh V.'s new compendium The Best of Roosh, Part I.

First of all, Capt. Cap warns other self-publishing entrepreneurs that "until I get counter reviews, the book reviews will be limited to a tit for tat mutually beneficial relationship."  Ah, so that's how "peer review" works in the manosphere!

In defense of Roosh, whose self-editing tends to be as haphazard as his personal grooming, The Captain asserts that he, personally, likes the typos.  In fact, the more of 'em, the better! 
 I'm taking a religious stance with this in that I believe men are sick and tired of the predominantly female-dominated publishing/correcting-ones-english-at-the-expense-of-ideas industry.  I truly believe that with online publishing proper grammar will finally be ranked below "ideas and content" as it should have always been until academian charlatans came in insisting their knowledge of "dangling participles" was more important than pioneering lines of thought.  The more and more typos I see, overshadowed by intelligence, innovation, creativity, and just plain cleverness, the better for the publishing industry and readers.
I didn't realize until now that careful proof-reading compromised the creative expression of men's "ideas."  Now I see how I have been not only stifling, but indeed virtually castrating, my male students by insisting that they learn to observe the conventions of "academian" English.  For years, I've been trying to persuade them that "proper grammar" would strengthen their power to persuade readers, but am now chagrined to learn that I had it all ass-backwards.

This is why I cannot fear the New Misogynists.

And also because of this:


The Best Of Roosh has been downloaded 3,250 times. 136 of you purchased it. :)

Tuesday, May 28, 2013

Is Matt Forney a Closeted FA?



I ran across this graph right after making the mistake of reading a "fat rant" by Matt Forney.  For a guy who professes to find fat women repulsive, he sure spends a lot of time fulminating about them.

I'm perplexed by the obsession with fat girls.  I don't find extreme obesity attractive or "healthy" either, but I don't find the people who suffer from this to be "undeserving of love" or deserving of abuse ("shaming," "shunning").  Nor did it stop me from falling madly in love with a guy who was once pushing 400 lbs (he's slimmed down considerably since, courtesy of two bouts of oral cancer).  I've never thought it was my mission in life to persuade prospective sexual partners to eat less (unless, perhaps, we were sharing a pizza LOL).  Nor do I begrudge my thin friends their svelte physiques (unless we're browsing the sales racks together).

My "fatness" is my personal issue.  It's between my doctor and me -- and a handful of intimates in whom I choose to confide.  Unless some random stranger is forced to sit next to me on a crowded plane, I fail to see why my girth affects him in any real way.

If it's a matter of his being offended aesthetically, well boo-hoo.  I'm potentially "offended" every single day I venture out in public:  I happen to think anyone over the age of eighteen who wears a baseball cap looks like a moron.  I am not a fan of the shaved head + goatee look either.  I loathe clothing with logos on it.  Public spitting turns my stomach.  And don't get me started about all the truly terrible writing I have to read!  

For the most part, I try to ignore these affronts to my delicate sensibilities because (1) they're trivial, and (2) otherwise I would be in a chronic state of rage -- and that's just not a place where I want to live (not to mention it's worse for one's heart than cheerfully schlepping around an extra fifty pounds).

The fact that Matt Forney and his readers don't want to fuck women who look like me isn't really a problem for any of us, is it?  In fact, if my rotund body actively and magically repels them, it's kind of a plus in my book.

Look, kiddos, let me lay it on you:  No person is obligated to be physically attractive to another person.  You are not "owed" a supermodel girlfriend despite what television commercials have been teaching you.  The sooner you get this reality through your noggins, the better off you'll be.  The only body a person gets to control is his/her own -- and even then, not always (see cancer, above).

Perhaps the crux of the issue is that misogynists don't recognize women's personal autonomy.  In their infantile minds, every woman is put on the earth for the sole purpose of pleasing them.  It's a little bit narcissistic, wouldn't you say?   

Still, the way they natter on about how teh fat kills their boners!  Although they claim that they enjoy joking about fat women, they don't seem to be having much fun with it.  Indeed, the topic sends them into paroxysms of rage.

And what really enrages them is that when they do decide to "bang" a fat chick (out of sheer desperation, apparently), those "ugly bitches" don't want to be banged by them.  How dare an "imperfect female" reject them!  How dare anuglyfatchick have any standards of her own?

It seems like Mr. Forney spends an awful lot of time haunting the "fatshionista" blogs and stewing about the fact that a lot of these young women manage to have some well-documented sexy fun despite their excess poundage.  Personally, I love seeing a fat girl rocking a bikini.  That is not because I think all fat girls should wear bikinis, or because every fat girl turns me on (some do / some don't), but because, well, why the hell shouldn't she? 

Self-acceptance and self-confidence do not encourage people to be fat.  Probably the opposite is truer.  People who like themselves tend to be more active and socially engaged, as well as more tolerant and compassionate of others. 

And I am willing to lay odds that if Forney and Friends tried to publicly "shame" these girls they would be met with great belly laughs of derision.  Personally, if someone jeered or tried to humiliate me within my earshot, in a bar or a club or anywhere but from a fast-moving vehicle, they'd get a dose of their own medicine. 

Some people speculate that Forney is a closeted gay.  I don't know about that, but I'm beginning to wonder if he isn't a closeted FA. (That's "Fat Admirer" in BBW circles, a subculture I suspect Matt Forney is already quite familiar with). 

Anyway, I stole the graphic from Helen Boyd's En/gender site.  I used to read her blog faithfully and participate in the forum, but after a while, suffering from "trans ally fatigue," I fell away.  I am now adding her to my blog roll as a personal reminder to check in more often.  I am so annoyed that I missed her recent trip to my city.  I would have enjoyed going to the event.