@Fidelbogen sez: “We needn’t treat feminists fairly or ethically. Underhanded tricks r the order of the day.”

Silly Fidelbogen! Tricks are for kids!

Silly Fidelbogen! Tricks are for kids!

It’s labor day here in the US of A, a day for picnics, parades honoring our nation’s workers, and going through Fidelbogen’s timeline on Twitter looking for especially obtuse tweets from the always obtuse Men’s Renaissance Agitator and would-be philosopher-king of the Men’s Rights movement.

Yes, I know we just did Fidelbogen the other day, but we’re doing him again.

Because it’s my blog, that’s why!

And it’s worth it. Because Fidelbogen, who apparently fancies himself some sort of evil rhetorical genius taking down feminism with he power of his mighty words, has a knack for saying out loud what a lot of Men’s Rightsers think.  As I pointed out the other day, he’s admitted straight up that he’s far more interested in attacking feminists than in actually helping men. Which is clearly the case with most MRAs, as evidenced by their complete and utter lack of accomplishment in the whole “actually helping men” arena.

In his tweets, he often goes further, exposing the dishonest nature of these attacks on feminism. Indeed, a good portion of his tweets are basically him twirling his moustache as he explains the devious trickery he’ll be using to take the evil feminists down.

Here he is in full supervillain mode:

One of Fidey’s favorite themes is that he and his MRA buddies can define feminism, so suck on that, femmies!

Indeed, he won’t shut up about it:

Yeah, dude. Trust us — we know.

And here he suggests he’s far more interested in pulling women down than in raising men up:

What’s this? Straight up misogyny?

Oh, sorry, misogyny doesn’t exist.

Or … does it?

Do try to keep your story straight, dude!

Fidey is the master of baffling metaphor:

Ok, that didn’t make sense. Let’s try this one:

Huh. Pisspots, however unsavory, do at least serve a useful function. Is Men’s Rights Activism thus the equivalant of peeing on the floor?

Too complicated. Fidey tries a simpler metaphor:

And then marches off into the land of incoherence once again.

And then accidentally stumbles upon a truth:

Read that one over again, Fidey, and take a good hard look at yourself.

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 September 2, 2013, in antifeminism, fidelbogen, grandiosity, gross incompetence, hypocrisy, imaginary oppression, mansplaining, men who should not ever be with women ever, misogyny, slacktivism, straw feminists, taking pleasure in women's pain, the sound of his own voice, twitter and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 144 Comments.

  1. Can we not on the “crazy old men” trope? My crazy old man of a grandfather’s taken up residence in the dementia wing of a lovely retirement home and would never turn into this sort of misogynistic dirtbag (swapping war stories with the other WWII veteran like it wasn’t 60 years ago…that’s another matter [hey pecunium, I think we’ve found the source of my fondness for listening to them eh?])

  2. SandinaFem has a habit of making drive-by comments with ableist or violent content, then never bothering to respond to being called out (and possibly not even bothering to read other comments at all).

    I’m glad your grandfather’s in a good place, Argenti.

  3. I really have to wonder with drive-bys like that. Is the point to litter the comments with little turds to try to make it look like crap doesn’t get called out? Or to vent anger with all the ableism they have ingrained?

  4. I thought the name rang troll bells, but I couldn’t place it so I assumed good faith. Oh well.

    And yeah, lovely place, my mother hates the floor pets though — birds. She hates birds (to the point there’s a more or less unspoken shop rule not to tell her one when gets in. Which, with three open bay doors, happens with some frequency) He’s got a proper room, nicer than any of my apartments. No kitchen, for what ought be obvious reasons, but walk in shower with chair, huge closet that’s about as big as my bedroom sans bed (I could easily put a 250g tank in there, and a bed roll, and be the happiest little camper on the planet), bedroom, den/living room.

    And, of course, a new war buddy to swap stories with. Seeing how I’ve long been the only one not to go “you told me that one already” I’m sure he’s pleased being able to repeat himself and not have anyone care (if they even remember!)

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