“Agent Orange” Addresses the Men’s Rights Movement in Possibly the Most Unintentionally Hilarious Video Ever [UPDATE: Transcript!]

I know. It’s an MRA. It’s nine minutes long. But seriously, just watch it. You won’t regret it.

And, no, it’s not a parody.

If you want to see what the man behind the voice looks like, check out his Gravatar.

After you’ve finished laughing, you can go over and read the catty little thread it inspired over on Antimisandry.com.

Since WordPress now allows us to add polls to our posts I’m adding one right here.

EDITED TO ADD: And now, thanks to serrana, here’s a transcript of the whole bloody thing. Make like a bird, and read it:

I am Agent Orange. I am responsible for the initial collection of data from the now defunct forums of radfemspeak.net. I also recruited most of the team and set forth the vision that would become the Agent Orange Files. I continued promoting the Agent Orange Files during the radfem 2012 fiasco.

I have waited and watched for quite some time the events unfold around me in this broad movement called the MRM. I have seen a sickness strike the heart of what I’ve once considered something grand.

Now, in my capacity as a sort of bird in the sky, I hear rumblings of malcontent throughout the halls of my esteemed brothers. This troubles me as I have not been troubled before. In my life, there has been nothing that has troubled me more. I give of my time, love, and life itself in hopes of creating a society free of misandry, where all humans are judged equally before the laws of nations throughout the world.

Are we still in the wilderness, my brothers, where there are none but our own voices to fall upon our ears? Are we still shouting at the top of our lungs and hearing but a brief echo announcing our solitude? Or have we built a fortress in this cold land, paving paths to others to trade ideas in good faith? Have we not spit in the eyes of our enemies, met them in many skirmishes, and run a sword of truth into the heart of their lies over and over?

We have done much, even to the consternation of those who would use our name in vain for their own petty purposes. We men have refused to back the fight with honeyed words, and bowing to properness and propriety. We have damned the use of all but plain speech in the signing of declarations of war against those who would enslave us. We have spit upon them for good measure as is rightfully deserved.

But the sickness still comes into our fort. It is one borne of temperance of speech that hides half-truths behind the language of our enemies. It poisons the minds of men so they can no longer arm the battlements out of fear of some imagined greater power. It is a false enemy, that never has, and never will have power over the souls of free men.

It has turned brother against brother within the confines of our home. It has distracted us with questions and answers that have no bearing on our lives as free men. We tremble before these questions out of fear of answering to something other than ourselves instead of taking the fight to our enemy. It blinds us to the simplest of answers that we should care not.

We have become complicated, filled with innuendo, brimming with foppishness and base impulse, just like our enemies. We have forgotten the faces of our fathers and grandfathers. We have neglected the pain of our brothers. We have lost sight of our most basic of functions and we are becoming like those we fight in the process.

What are we if not the voice of reason and truth in an otherwise insane world? How did we fall so far as to worry about how possible allies may view us in the future? Do we not stand upon our own merits? Have we not continually crushed our enemies beneath our feet with the weapons of sharp rhetoric and truth spoken with passion and resolve? Do we really care so much about how we are branded that we are willing to sacrifice each other upon the altar of political correctness and forsake our brothers?

Beware of what you say henceforth to each other. You think carefully about our true enemy: identity politics, the politicization of experience. Don’t use dark powers that suggest to us that flowery speech will gather us more bees to make the honey, because that honey is a sour poison that kills us all one by one by one.

Think hard on the cause of suffering among us. Recognize that it is the death of the individual that does this and the removal of accountability and responsibility through the idea that there is collective salvation instead of individual merit, that there is only coercion by their gods instead of the charity of a man, that there is only room for the love of your slavemaster instead of love for yourself.

I have not sat upon a single branch since I have taken flight long ago and I will not do so until the last breath is wrenched from my body through the violence of our enemies or the ravages of age. I have been among you all. I’ve been talking and watching, teaching and learning, healing and tending.

I have been encouraging others to take back their dignity and embark upon a course of action that can best take the fight to our enemy. I hope to help free all men from their self-imposed shackles. My words have rarely been met with derision by those brothers who know me.

Those that have matched wits with me in good faith find me an honorable and competent visionary with the tenacity of a wolverine.

I would ask, but I think it wise to set the example. All of you, lay down your weapons against your brothers in arms immediately, set aside your momentary lapses of reason and come to a table that will soon be provided. Those of you to whom I have whispered secrets before, if you fancy yourself a leader, or a speaker in any capacity, you will come.

There are going to be things to be taught, and revelations that will be made apparent. Those that contribute wisely at the table will walk away with a greater sense of purpose and direction than what we have ever had before.

I promise you magic steel to further our cause. Come, sit beside your brother, though you may have smitten him before. The blood will not be washed away, but regret will at least not hang upon your brow, if you do sit with us.

In the meantime, return to the battlements, and think on this: Remember our enemy that comes from outside our hard-won land. Trust that those not showing up for discourse will have their true colors shown, or are too shamed by their past actions. Remove the names of your brothers from your lips and hold the steel strongly toward the outer walls.

You know where I fly. Send a pigeon or catapult yourself to me, I care not which. I will be waiting impatiently for a response.

About David Futrelle

I run the blog We Hunted the Mammoth, which tracks (and mocks) online misogyny. My writing has appeared in a wide variety of places, including Salon, Time.com, the Washington Post, the New York Times Book Review and Money magazine. I like cats.

Posted on June 11, 2013, in antifeminism, crackpottery, creepy, doxing, drama kings, entitled babies, grandiosity, men who should not ever be with women ever, misandry, misogyny, MRA, narcissism, radfems oh my, self-congratulation, YouTube and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 313 Comments.

  1. @M_Dubz:

    Yeah, and the idea that it’s on a woman to police him has its own nasty message in there too.

    Thomas, of course, is looking at the question ‘why dickpics,’ and his conclusion has a more-than-slightly-reminiscent of-our-trolls whiff to it.

  2. I really wonder where he gets his information that women die more often than men (lumping women in with children and the elderly even!), since all the actual SAR experience I have directly contradicts that. Oh wait, I bet I can guess…probably pulled it out of his ass like they always do.

    A (slightly) more charitable interpretation: He gets his information about men in the wilderness from US Marines recruitment ads, and his information about women in the wilderness from Troop Beverly Hills.

  3. @TomBCat – ow, moving house, major pain! Hope it’s all going smoothly (or as smoothly as it ever can).

    Mr K and I are good! I’ve just had a week-plus off work and spent the whole time sitting in front of the heater, knitting, or tooling around on Manboobz (and knitting).

    On the other side, Mr K and I spent most of the time pottering around gardening, and he’s made an outdoor table for the swing seat. :)

  4. Sounds awesome! Also yay, you have a swing seat!
    Do you have gardening weather over there?
    Over here it can’t decide, but this is the greenest summer in years!
    Also, yes, the whole moving thing only had a few minor set-backs, but I really enjoy all this “Stuff happens! I have to do more stuff!” – feeling, though it does make my insomnia worse. But yay, things and stuff and also I can keep my bunny after all! (not sure if I told you, for weeks it looked like I would have to give her away)

  5. @Howard- Thank you for articulating that bit about another woman having to police him. And I thought that the article you linked to was extremely cogent re: boundary pushing and dick pics. It’s not about desire in those cases, it’s about seeing how much you can get away with.

  6. Oh, also, I got my dream flat in my dream town with my dream job, so for all I care my belongings could go up in flames and I’d still be happy.
    Naturally I didn’t have time for manboobz, I really missed it, though.

  7. Howard: I’d missed that story. I admit, I pity the mother even as I enjoy the schadenfreude of his humiliation. The article was quite good, too.

    It reminded me of the Anthony Weiner case. Politically, I liked him, and honestly, I don’t care about extramarital affairs by politicians–ain’t my business. But eventually someone linked me to quotes where the woman who got the dickpic said it happened in the middle of an otherwise non-sexual conversation, when there was no prior relationship. That little detail was ignored by almost everyone in favor of the marital infidelity angle–when I found out, I was in full-on feminist rage: “Why the fuck wasn’t that fucking detail on the fucking front fucking page of the fucking New York Fucking Times?” would about sum up my position.

    “U.S. Representative cheats on wife, sorta” was enough to end a career, but “U.S. Representative sexually harasses near-stranger” was barely a goddamn footnote.

  8. God, the Anthony Weiner thing made me want to bang my head against a wall. All he had to do was not be a complete moron; was that so hard?

  9. TomBCat – yay, yay and yay again on dream job, town, flat and keeping bunny! I don’t think you’d mentioned maybe having to give him away, though that could be my dodgy memory.

    The climate over the other side (or at least, the bit where Mr K lives) pretty much reflects the European seasons, at least as far as time of year goes. Not surprising given he’s French. The weather’s like well-behaved late spring at the moment. :) Here in Oz it’s decided not to wait for minor details like the winter solstice, and turned into full on winter the minute it hit June. I just hope this rain’s going where it’s needed, like the perennially drought-ridden Mallee farming country.

    I knitted three caps in the last few weeks. The first two ended up shaped more like beanies (which don’t suit me) than berets (which do). Guess who’s decided that gives him carte blanche to wear the first ones … I guess one out of three isn’t bad! I’m making what’s intended to be a very loose slouch cap in 14 ply at the moment. Given it’s a mix of fawn, mushroom and green shades, I won’t be in the least surprised if it gets *cough* borrowed *cough* once it’s finished.

  10. Couldn’t do it, a whole lot of talking and he didn’t even say anything.

  11. Nuh, I wasn’t on for a long time, and I feel like you’re the kind of person who’d remember depressing details like that (or happy details, or just what is important to the people who talk to you,for that matter), so I think I never mentioned it.
    Also I keep ‘forgetting’ where you live (Might be my jealousy because I sooo want to go there and don’t know the when’s and if’s…)
    Berets are awesome, I somehow manage to get worse at knitting the more I try it, so it’d probably end up being a scarf if I tried ^^
    But it sounds like you are content, which makes me happy :)

  12. That’s the sweetest thing to say, TomBCat! ::blushes::

    Yup, I live in the land of kangaroos, drop bears and giant spiders in restaurants. :)

    That’s a bummer about your knitting skills going into reverse. Have you tried crochet? I did but couldn’t get to grips with it at all.

  13. Awww :) But is it? I always think of it as kind of selfish. Sharing the happiness of others is an easy way to stay happy yourself :) Also, as a being with lady parts attached to it, I never do anything without malicious intent

    I tried crochet, but it’s no different.
    I’m a pretty decent seamstress though (not the Pratchett kind) as long as I manage to not sew my fingers on anything^^
    Well, we can’t all be good at everything :)

  14. “Also, as a being with lady parts attached to it, I never do anything without malicious intent ”

    ::mops coffee off keyboard::

    I’d say it’s satisfying mutual selfishness – sharing being happy and making other people happy at the same time! HAHAHAHA MANLY MENZ OUR LADYBRAINS HAVE SUPERIOR EVIL HAPPINESS ABILITIES

    You can use a sewing machine? :O That’s another thing I never managed. Always scared of doing exactly that – sewing my fingers. Owwwwwwwwww.

  15. I like how the happiness abilities are evil :)
    Sewing your fingers isn’t that painful as much as it is a disturbing sight.
    When I’ve seen it happen to others the look on their faces was always one of curious disbelief rather than pain ^^
    Also it is actually not that easy to do, you have to basically fall asleep while sewing.

    Now, sadly, I have to sleep. I only got 4 hours left and already didn’t sleep last night. Lucky for me, I picked the right line of work with lots of irregular hours and sleep deprivation :)

    But it was very nice to talk to you again, and I hope I’ll read you soon, especially since I don’t know how long after the move until I have an internet connection again.

    Have a good (whatever time it is in 4X), both of you!
    Or the three of you, cat included.

  16. Niters, sleep well and chat soon! :)

  17. “I’m a pretty decent seamstress though (not the Pratchett kind) as long as I manage to not sew my fingers on anything^^”

    Reason 302 I don’t use a machine. But what’s the Pratchett kind?

  18. M Dubz: Those cards are so cool! Me want!

    I’m definitely doing something with mammoths. Maybe give the MRA brother-in-arms a favored prey or something similar?

    Favored enemy: huge animal. This class ability works just like the ranger’s “favored enemy” class ability, except that due to the narrow specialization range and lack of choice for the enemy, the MRA brother-in-arms’s bonuses against his favored enemy are doubled (+4 to damage rolls and relevant skill checks). Additionally, any time the MRA brother-in-arms fights a mammoth with a party that includes one or more female companions, they gain an additional +1 morale bonus to their attack rolls if their player shouts: “We hunted the mammoth for you!”*

    *Exact rules for whininess of voice are up to the DM.

    Hey, this might work. With enough suspension of disbelief (like believing MRA’s ever being able to get off their butts to do some adventuring in the first place), this might even become a playable class. I’ll have to restrict the MRA brother-in-arms alignment to non-lawful though, since they are terrible at organizing anything. Plus, they troll, act irrationally, and seem to confuse even themselves with what exactly they want. Yep, definitely not lawful.

  19. Oh, and the paranoia surrounding “the ebil gummint” does not help either.

  20. Argenti – the Seamstresses’ Guild is the sex workers of Ankh-Morpork. “During the events of Night Watch, the Guild briefly employed an actual seamstress, who made quite a large sum of money darning the socks of men who made the same mistake she did.”

  21. You can use a sewing machine? :O That’s another thing I never managed. Always scared of doing exactly that – sewing my fingers. Owwwwwwwwww.

    Hehe, I took a class in junior high school called “Baching It”. It was intended to teach traditional Home Ec skills to boys; the name was some kind of poorly executed joke about bachelors and teaching boys not to be incompetent at home. It was actually a lot of fun, and I ended up making a backpack during it that I later used for all manner of manly man man activities. At some point afterwards I picked up a sewing machine and have ever since never hesitated to repair my minor tears or rips or lost buttons. I haz bobbins and everything!

    I suppose I just exposed myself as a RAGING MANGINA. I’ll try to make it up to Paul Elam & pals by eating extra steak & lobster this week (or not).

  22. Yup, you have revealed yourself as a shameless mangina, MrFancyPants! You can expect your medal of commendation from the Hivemind shortly.

    I’m glad you explained what “Baching It” meant. I read it as Bach-ing and wondered what Johann Sebastian had to do with sewing. :P

  23. @ Radical Parrot- I now REALLY want to play D&D with you, but only if I can play as a sentient mammoth.

  24. @Radical Parrot:

    The class could get plusses with bluff, diabolical
    And gain class bonuses against one specific animal .
    Balance remains to be seen,
    Consider giving them class ranks in “Profession: Scream” –
    And of alignment, neutral evil, habitual

  25. This isn’t a limerick, but if you’re a D&D 3.5 fan, you can actually model an MRA very effectively if you play a Harrowed.


    Just play one with caustic fury or Sky’s rage.


  26. Listening to that audio track, I kept half-expecting to hear his mom knock on the door and tell him it was past his bedtime…


    lol, at least it’ll make a good yoga soundtrack.

  28. M Dubz: Of course you can! Here’s a sample from my D&D campaign world:

    “The history of mammoths in the northern parts of Misandria is one of chaos, distress and destruction. The MRA brothers-in-arms nearly hunted the mammoth to extinction in their crude attempts to appease their bonbon-eating straw feminist overlords. But there were some who resisted. Whether due to psionic involvement, dark magics, or simple evolutionary necessity, a few of the mammoths developed sentience. Called The Prophelephants, these sentient mammoths were revered, marvelled at, but also occasionally shunned by their mammoth kind, but none were as useful in repelling attacks as them. At first, their victories were meager Pyrrhic victories, but all that changed when a good-aligned, wandering adventure party taught the Prophelephants how to advance in a class. Not surprisingly, many chose the path of the barbarian to enhance their fighting prowess, but others decided to become clerics in order to heal their injured brethren, and there were even a few Prophelephant sorcerers born on that day.”


    You link to sites oh so rich
    in material, classes, stuff so kitsch
    I see your Sky’s rage
    and raise with a page
    of class abilities and many skills
    that surely make you Run to the Hills
    Their theme song is played by Iron Maiden
    And their emo-ness immortalized by Christensen, Hayden
    Yeah, it seems I’m really reaching here
    You will still not have a need to fear
    that you’ll ever lose your crown of rhymes
    that comes with the complementary limes
    My unholy gods, that last one was a fail
    My rhymes are really growing stale

  29. Radical Parrot, I present you with all the internets. Plus bonbons.

  30. Aww, thanks, Kittehserf! I love bonbons! I also love the internets, because, you know, kittehs.

    Incidentally, I love Iron Maiden too, though the song in question is not a very happy song regarding the Native Americans. A more apt song to describe the MRAs would arguably be Can I Play With Madness:

    The Evil That Men Do is obviously a misandric song of the highest caliber.

  31. CassandraSays

    Also Bruce Dickinson is a fencer, which I’m sure makes him a mangina.

  32. “Have we not CRUSHED our enemies with our SHARP RHETORIC?”

    Hahahaha sure.

    You know when a little kid goes off on a nonsensical rant about something and the parent will just say “Yeah, I think you’re right sweetie, all unicorns ARE pink” just to get the kid to shut up? That’s how I feel right about now. Yes James, you’ve CRUSHED us all with your “sharp rhetoric.”

  33. @Radical Parrot – of course the greatest rhymer ever was Willam Topaz McGonagall. He could probably have made something rhyme with orange if he’d really wanted to.

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