Category Archives: I am making a joke
Here are a couple of, well, let’s just call them very intriguing questions asked of me by a Men’s Rights Redditor. Since I can’t respond to them on the Men’s Rights subreddit — I’m banned – I thought I’d respond here:
Mr. Levelate, allow me to answer your serious questions with some equally serious questions of my own:
I’ve wondered for a long time how people like you react to the men’s rights mantra of ‘all women are wombats’, when you see a woman who isn’t a wombat, how do you explain this?
Also, many MRAs advocate turning all squirrels into bologna, what makes you think squirrel bologna would taste better than regular bologna, and what would the world do with all those extra uneaten nuts, were it ever to come to that?
Here’s the thing, Mr. Levelate: those things you think feminists believe? FEMINISTS DON’T ACTUALLY BELIEVE THEM.
That “all men are rapists” quote from Marilyn French you guys like to pass around? That was from a character in a novel.
The number of radical feminists who seriously want to get rid of men, or a significant number of them, you could probably count on your fingers. I’m not sure how many MRAs want to make squirrel bologna, but the numbers are probably similar. And, fyi, there are actually more than a few MRAs who fantasize about breeding certain types of women out of existence, like this dude on The Spearhead, and a small army of MRAs and MGTOWers who pine for the imaginary future where babies are gestated in artificial wombs and women are all replaced by sexy sexbots.
Listening to MRAs talking about feminism is a bit like sitting in on a book club in which no one has read the book.
Paul Elam, head ranter at A Voice for Men, has a new video out called “You want privilege? You got it!” The thesis: if women really did have the so-called privileges that men have, they’d hate it and want men to take them all back. Because all of these so-called privileges are really giant burdens. Or, as Elam puts it, somewhat more melodramatically, these privileges have “begun to more resemble an anchor around your neck than the helm of a great ship that everyone tells you that you are captaining.”
Here’s the video.
Well, all right, that’s not really Paul Elam. But that little clip does capture pretty well the tone of his latest post, which is indeed about how male privilege is really a terrible burden.
I mean, this is his opener:
I swear by everything holy that the next time I hear some fembot caterwaul about “male privilege,” I am going to find something to break, turn it into shards, and drag the broken pieces across my chest just to distract me from the pain of their increasing stupidity. Just picture me like Martin Sheen, collapsed in a heap of bloody, tearful insanity on the floor of a cheap hotel in Saigon.
Heck, compared to that, Mr. McDuck’s reaction to the news about his “ice cream” was, if anything, rather restrained.
The rest of Elam’s post is, as is typical for him, a rather trite recitation of a number of standard Men’s Rights talking points about male “disposability” written in some of the most ridiculously overblown prose ever seen outside of an Ayn Rand novel.
Elam complains that he hasn’t seen much benefit from his privileges:
Mind you I still don’t know what that privilege is. One time when I was young and very poor I was late on my light bill. I showed the electric company my balls, but they cut my power off anyway. …
Yeah, as someone who’s also had his power cut off, I’m pretty sure they do that with everyone. I’m also pretty sure that no feminist has ever or will ever argue that male privilege means you won’t get your power cut off for nonpayment.
Here’s Elam addressing women as if they’ve traded place with men:
With your privilege comes the right to work on crab boats, drive trucks, work on electric lines, walk into burning buildings and sink into the bowels of the earth digging out coal and other things people find useful.
Apparently having greater occupational choices is scary and bad.
When a ship goes down, or any other life threatening disaster strikes, you have two choices. Be a real woman and die, or treat your life like it has value and have the world shit on you as a coward who refused to perish on cue. There is also the possibility of third option, either die from the disaster so that men can live, or have another woman blow a fucking hole in your face with a pistol because you tried to save yourself.
Yeah, I believe we may have addressed this earlier. Oh, but there’s more:
Like noticing the emperor has no clothes, it may hit you one day when you decide not to offer your seat to a man; when the stares at you from all around seem to come down people’s noses. …
You must learn not to say a word. Not to anyone else, not even to yourself. You must learn to see flames, coal dust, icy saltwater, death and sacrifice for the trappings of power that the world around you thinks them to be.
Says a dude typing out his manifestos on an expensive laptop he
conned nagged his followers into buying for him.
And you must be willing to hang your head in shame over that power, even as the world chews you up, spits you out, and gets ready to take its turn with your daughter.
Elam’s rousing conclusion:
So, that is it, ladies. You want my privilege, it is yours. I will gladly hand it over to you this very minute. I am just waiting for you to meet the pre-requisites of disposibilty and an utter lack of self-value. I am waiting for you to woman up to the job, take off your fucking make up and be ready to bleed, blah blah blah look at me I’m mad!
I paraphrased a little at the end there. But, yes, the world champion at seeing male “disposability” everywhere did in fact misspell the word “disposability.” That was all him. And so, believe it or not, is the following:
I, like a Jew gone weary of being called a chosen one, am completely ready for anyone else, and in particular, you, to be chosen.
Personally, I have had about all the privilege I can stand.
Yep. He went there.
Also, I don’t know if you all knew this, but when women serve in the military these days it’s “like a day care camp for them.”
Also, not to pat myself on the back or anything, but my headline is much better than his. Maybe he should get me to write all the headlines on A Voice for
Angry Duck Plutocrats Men.
Just look at this blatant burro misandry I found on Tumblr!
The Biblio-Donkey. This is an initiative by a teacher named Luis Soriano Borges, who travels through the most distant and hidden villages of Colombia to bring books to children. The male donkey is named Beto and the female is Alfa.
That’s right! Alfa and Beto! Just look at that alpha bitch burra marching along, so smug and carefree, while that poor beta trudges along behind her, forced to stare at that hot burra ass he will never have! And you just know that the slut burra is totally riding the alpha ass cock carousel.
NOTE: In all seriousness, what Borges is doing is awesome.
So the other day I was perusing the front page of the angry dude blog – sorry, “human rights organization” – A Voice for Men, looking for something inspiring to read. My eyes hit on a promo for a recent AVFM radio show. It was on the topic of feminism, and, apparently, women in general:
Flatworms, eh? You know, those “relatively simple bilaterian, unsegmented, soft-bodied invertebrate animals” without brains, with primitive eye spots that allow them to sense light?
As you know, human rights organizations are widely known for comparing large categories of humanity to primitive worms.
I am reminded of the inspiring words of Martin Luther King:
I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character. And by the fact that they’re not slimy, dirt-eating worms, like all those damn white kids.
This is, of course, from King’s famous “I had a dream – a really weird dream, where all the white people were worms” speech.
Oh, perhaps JohnTheOther and GirlWritesWhat have some highly clever explanation for that whole “flatworm” thing, but in order to find out I would have to listen to their “radio” show. But life is short, it is a lovely, if a bit chilly, Saturday in April, and I would rather have ferrets chew the flesh off my bones while I am still alive than listen to an hour or more of those two, so I guess I will never know.
But no matter, because there was another post on A Voice for Men that caught my eye:
Yes, I said to myself, I will have to find out what Cooter Bee thinks about the differences between intellect and emotionalism. In the course of my day to day life, I often find myself pondering the deeper philosophical questions of human existence, and when I do, I always wonder: What does Cooter Bee think of that? It is rare that I actually get to learn what Cooter Bee thinks on a particular matter of philosophical import. So naturally I clicked on the link.
Here’s what I learned from the esteemed Professor Cooter Bee:
Endless citation, refutation of fallacy and Socratic pursuit of truth are the tools of reason. Men tend to understand them. Women, generally speaking, don’t because indignation, outrage and gut level distaste are rooted in emotionalism. Women do understand base emotionalism and do respond to it in a more predictable way than they could ever respond to reason. They are also more likely to respond appropriately because the message is more clearly understood. Emotionalism is their language.
So, really, there’s no point in actually arguing anything with those flighty ladies.
No need to waste words or knock yourself out reasoning with feminists or even your wife, for that matter, when a short and visceral pronouncement from on high will do and is more effective.
For example, you can just call them sluts:
Sluts are against slut shaming because sluttiness is, indeed, shameful. Say so. Your position would be unassailable because they too believe it. They invoke moral relativism and slut pride marches as a means to escape the inescapable.
Actually, it’s better if you call the ladies sluts over and over and over again:
Slut Walks, “Sex in the City” and the self esteem cult are all attempts to reassure women that even when they behave abominably that the bad behavior has the sanction of the collective and they face no risk of expulsion if they engage in it. To modify the behavior of women, reimpose that risk. The good news is that it can be done in relatively short order. … A stark and unvarnished remonstration from someone in closer proximity will undo the propaganda swiftly. Declarations of “that is disgusting” accumulate. Hearing it once may not overcome Cosmo and she can dismiss it as an isolated raving of a lunatic. If she were to hear it more often, however, she begins to doubt herself and wonder about her status within her more immediate collective.
You can also modify chick behavior by praising them when they act the way you like them to. It’s really quite simple:
Chick language provides us with a construct that we can use. To women something is “nice” or it is “mean”. They use that simple, emotionally based dichotomy because that is what chicks understand. They use it with us and they use it with each other. That is how they evaluate the world. Use it. …
Most women want to be good so tell them what good is in a way they can grasp easily.
What if they disagree with your assessment of what is good? Doesn’t matter, because you are a man, and therefore right:
Who is to decide what is good and what is evil? Simple. You are. Some men might think it arrogant to anoint themselves as the final arbiter of all moral issues. Not true. As a man, nature equipped you to make decisions based on merit alone without respect to consensus. … You know right and wrong when you see it.
Are there any good women out there? Yes, Cooter Bee tells us. Indeed, there are several women who contribute to AVFM, so there’s them. Beyond that, Dr. Bee, tells us,
I am of the belief that most women are good, if somewhat misled. They only resist righteousness because they think that any behavior that the collective endorses IS righteous. The rare woman who is capable of moral judgment will select good herself and would not be on the receiving end of harsh moral criticism.
Then again, you still might have to yell at the good women from time to time. Really, it’s your duty – it’s for her own good.
Good women are human too. Even in the seldom occurring event of a temporary moral lapse by a decent woman, your diatribe will be no more severe than the one she administers to herself. Would you do less in the case of a man whose judgment falters?
Thank you, Cooter Bee, for your insights!
I had no idea that going around telling women that they’re sluts was a form of human rights advocacy, but apparently it is. The next time I see a woman standing on the streetcorner trying to get me to sign a petition for Amnesty International, I will simply tell her what a dirty whore she is. I will accomplish more with these words than she will in a day of collecting signatures and donations!
NOTE: Since you bring it up all the time, fellas, you might try to remember that the name of the show is Sex AND the City. Also, it ceased production eight years ago.
This post contained some
Up until now, as you all know, I’ve been a strong supporter of the gynofascist ladytopia. But after watching the following video I am beginning to reconsider. Three seconds is too short. This lady is too bossy. And I really, really don’t want to have to learn how to line dance. Also, why does everyone have to wear a white shirt? Watch, and you’ll see what I mean. If this is the ladytopia, I want none of it!
Over on The Spearhead, a fellow calling himself American offers a fascinating new theory on the death of Jesus: It was the evil ladies who did him in!
Pierce brought up an important event in the life of jesus. He was falselly accused, and the violent masses and the heathen whordes wanted to see blood; so the pilate delivered.
Kinda like the American feminist whorde of barbarianism. Maybe womens justice is simply more primitive and barbarian (more heathen-esque) than patriarchal orderly justice.
whether its the klu-klux-klan “mob lynchings” of 100 years ago over false rape accusations, or the Duke lacrosse feminist mobs roaming the streats of durham looking for blood, there seems to be a common theme here. feminine matriarchal justice is lies , hysteria, mob/klan barbarism; while patriarchal justice is truth based, orderly, ect. ect.
Pontius pilate didn’t want to kill jesus, but the violent matriarchal whorde/klan wanted to see blood and forced his hand.
Happy Easter, if you’re into that sort of thing! Just remember, as you’re enjoying your chocolate eggs and microwaving your Peeps, that woman are all a bunch of lying, bloodthirsty whores.
Female kitties! Your long reign of gynofelininofascist matrioterror has ended! Over on A Voice for
Male Cats Men, JinnBottle has figured out a purr-fect way to put lady cats in their place! (Hint: That place is not on his lap, being gently stroked.) Oh, and this goes for all you human ladies too, or else — POW!
(Thanks to Cloudiah for pointing me to this comment.)