Category Archives: douchebaggery
A man and an old lady get in an elevator
Those "sweet" old ladies are anything but.
Another elevator joke for you all:
So Pierce Harlan of the False Rape Society blog gets into an elevator ….
Well, OK, not a joke. In his latest post, Harlan offers a reaction, of sorts, to the whole atheist elevator incident –- by relating an anecdote of a recent elevator experience of his own.
EDITED TO ADD: Harlan has now deleted the post in question. It can still be seen, at least for now, in Google’s cache of the original page, which you can find here. Grab screenshots! Back to the story:
Seems he was riding a hotel elevator with a sweet old lady. Neither one said anything to the other (Harlan apparently hates talking to sweet old ladies) but when he got off the elevator – well, let’s let him explain:
I glanced back at her and saw that … she was immobilized with fear. In fact, she was practically cowering in the corner. Her eyes couldn’t have been wider if I had whipped out my dick and lathered it up with Grey Poupon. Hers was the face of utter, unbridled fear, and she was watching me like the scardest of scared deer. She said not a word but her demeanor practically pleaded, “Please don’t rape me, sir!”
Now, Harlan seems to have what you might call a taste for overstatement. He describes feminists as “screeching banshees” and “extremist loons allied with the sexual grievance industry.” I doubt he could describe a chicken-salad sandwich without resorting to angry hyperbole. (That was a little bit of overstatement on my part.) But let’s just assume that there is at least a kernel of truth here: this woman was creeped out by Harlan.
So what was Harlan’s response to this woman’s obvious discomfort?
[N]o one has more empathy for his fellow human beings than I do. The first thought that came to my mind in response to the obvious fear on the face of this pathetic, sweet looking, older woman — who probably never hurt anyone in her entire life — was fuck you!
Obviously we are supposed to ask just what it was that drove Harlan – the self-described world’s most empathetic man – to say something so seemingly callous? Well, as is usually the case with those we write about here, it all comes back to man-hating ladies and their male allies, with their evil insistence on sexual assault education (sorry, “indoctrination”) and their callous demands to “’take back the night,’ although the night has always been theirs.”(I don’t quite know what that means, but it sure sounds selfish of these women to want a whole extra night just for themselves.)
Ours is, Harlan says, “a culture marked by crass, hysterical fear-mongering about male sexual predation and violence.” (Evidently some guys haven’t gotten the memo on this.)
But all this evil misandry seems to have left poor Mr. Harlan in an uncharitable mood towards, well, almost everyone — though he directs his worst opprobrium at sweet old ladies.
Fuck them all. The paranoia of the woman in the elevator is her problem, not mine. Ironically, the elevator, the hotel itself, the car she rode in and the roads she rode on to get to the hotel were all undoubtedly conceived, designed, and built by men — men she’d fear just as much as me if they were standing in that elevator with her. I felt no guilt or shame or bewilderment over the fact that she fears me because of my birth class. Let her fear me. I can’t change it, and I have too much to do to worry about it.
And maybe, just maybe, it’s good that some people fear us. Maybe we should exult in the power we wield by reason of their paranoia. One thing I know: I will never do anything to alleviate their paranoia. In fact, I’m just fine with it, thank you very much. If someday, my riding the elevator causes some old woman to have a heart attack, that, too, is not my problem. Blame it on a culture that I don’t approve of. Blame on sweet looking, older women who give in to the paranoia.
Truly the world’s most empathetic man.
Harlan goes on to talk briefly about the Rebecca Watson elevator incident. Needless to say, he adds nothing interesting to the discussion.
Man Boobz Mad Libs #1: Love is a battlefield
Chicago New Wave pioneers Phil 'n' the Blanks (pictured above) want you to FILL IN the blanks.
Last night, 540-or-so comments into the Atheist Elevator thread, Ion took a moment to school us all in the cold, hard realities of love in our time. Offering his own formerly flailing but now highly successful sexual career as evidence of this theories, he explained why it’s better to be called creepy than courteous. And apparently, acting like a five-year old will score you heaps of hot poon. Who knew?
As much as I learned from Ion’s autobiographic account, I feel as though there is much more wisdom to be gained from reading the stories of other commenters here. So, using Ion’s tale as a template, I would like to offer the first in what I hope will be a long and successful series of Man Boobz Mad Libs. Simply fill in the blanks in the text below to tell your own tale of heartbreak and triumph, and post your results in the comments below. We will all be the wiser for it.
You know what’s funny? You try to come off as [ ] and [ ], but in fact, I actually used to think like you when I was younger and [ ]. I bought into all the “men are [ ], men are natural [ ]” crap spouted by feminist [ ] and their neutered mangina [ ]. I was concerned about not coming off as [ ] or creepy. I was courteous and [ ] and [ ], I respected women, but I forgot to respect [ ]. And while the [ ] boys, playa gangstas, and abusive [ ]bags were [ ]ing around town with an “I take what I want” attitude and a new [ ] on their [ ] every week, I was hearing “Wow, you’re a great [ ], but I like you as a [ ]. Well, see you later, gotta go have [ ] with the [ ] boyfriend I’ve been complaining to [ ] about!”
So you’re right about the [ ]-puffing part, but not so much about the being [ ]. I’m less [ ] now than I ever was. I put myself [ ]. I don’t apologize for being a [ ]. It took me a while to [ ] up, but I did. And let me tell you, things are better than [ ]. I got my first [ ] after acting ‘inappropriate’ and going for a [ ] the night we first met. A day later, she was the one would wouldn’t [ ] me [ ]. So much for “[ ] give in because of [ ] pressures”, I guess. Second [ ], in college, I [ ] like a five-year old [ ]. Totally out of character, even I was ashamed of my [ ]. Afterwards, she was [ ] me to hang out. Sometime later, I met [ ] I really [ ]. Like an [ ], I decided to play it cool, be [ ], be [ ], take [ ] slowly. Guess what? Zero interest. Learned my lesson then and haven’t [ ] back. As for “friends who will [ ] me”… I don’t know what the [ ] are like where you live, but the [ ] I know just don’t fit your [ ] [ ]. Also, currently half my friends are [ ]. Weird, huh. But uh, keep telling yourself you’re so much better for being a neutered [ ]. I’ll be busy having [ ] in the [ ] world meanwhile.
Douchebags of History: T.M. Zink and the Zink Womanless Library
Today we celebrate one of history’s greatest, the largely unheralded misogynist douchebag T.M. Zink, who managed to stick it to the ladies even after he died. As Time magazine reported shortly after his death in 1930:
At Le Mars, Iowa, the probated will of T. M. Zink, deceased attorney, revealed:1) His $100,000 estate is to be placed in trust for 75 years; 2) In A. D. 2005 the accumulated principal is to be used to establish, equip and maintain a library on whose shelves will be no woman author, on whose catalogs will be no woman’s name, over whose portal will blaze: “No Women Admitted”; 3) To his daughter went $5; 4) To his widow not 1¢.
As he explained in his will:
My intense hatred of women is not of recent origin or development nor based upon any personal differences I ever had with them but is the result of my experiences with women, observations of them and study of all literatures and philosophical works.
2005 has come and gone and sadly, at least from the point of view of misogynist bibliophiles, the Zink Womanless Library was never built. As a piece in The Guardian noted, his family successfully challenged the will, I’m guessing on the grounds of Quando podeces te regi eorum fecerunt? (“When did you become king of the assholes?“)
Sunny side up
Sexy!
Good news, horny straight dudes! I can now report that the best, most efficient, most SCIENTIFIC way to score with the ladies is to figure out when they’re ovulating – and then act like a dick towards them!
Don’t take my word for it. Take the word of KRAUSER PUA, a guy so suave and superior his whole name is in ALL CAPS. As he explains in a recent blog post:
One of the things I’ve been meaning to do for months is to start tracking my targets with more scientific precision. …
It’s pretty clear that girls in peak ovulation are the best bets for first-time sex. It’s also clear they respond well to douchebag / aloof asshole game.
So here’s what I’m doing. I’ve just set up a spreadsheet to track all my active / still alive targets. Each one has a four rows representing each week of their cycle. Whenever I get any evidence to suggest they are in one particular week I’ll input it alongside the date. … Examples of evidence:
Week 1 – Bleeding: tells me she’s on the rag, allows sexual touching but stops me at her panties, wears trousers, smells funny
Week 2 – Normal: no unusual behavior
Week 3 – Ovulation: dresses sexy, talks and flirts, initiates touching, responds well to everything, allows escalation, gives back in sex chats, wisfully seeks excitement, goes clubbing
Week 4 – PMS: frumpy, lack of makeup, confused, bad moods, rejects all alpha / gamey banter, lack of interest in returning texts and calls
Seems like a foolproof strategy to me!
I think the only thing I would change is the wording. “Ovulation” has such a clinical, unsexy sound to it. I much prefer the slag term I just invented, “gettin’ eggy.”
It also makes the whole strategy much easier to remember. Just repeat the following “success mantra” every morning while you brush your teeth:
When she’s gettin’ eggy
It’s time to neggy
If all else fails, guys, you can always make a soft-boiled egg and fuck that.
Career women: A crime against nature?
She's trouble!
Quiz: Which of the following is an example of female infidelity? (Check all that apply.)
a) A man and a woman are in a monogamous relationship; neither one sleeps with anyone else.
b) A man and a woman are in a monogamous relationship; the man sleeps with someone else.
c) A man and a woman are in a monogamous relationship; the woman sleeps with someone else.
d) A woman, who may or may not be in a monogamous relationship, works hard at a job she enjoys.
ANSWER: If you answered c, congratulations! You are correct. If you also answered d, you are probably PUA guru and freelance internet asshole “Roissy” or one of his douchey fans. In a recent post Roissy argues, quite sincerely, that women who take their careers seriously are committing a sort of psycho-social-sexual crime against men.
In the post, Roissy quotes a reader of his who’d suggested that “female career obsession [is] a form of infidelity to the family and marrage.” Roissy seconds this opinion and goes on to argue that:
Women who place their careers front and center are committing a kind of betrayal of their sex’s biological and psychological imperatives. It’s like a big middle finger to everything that distinguishes the feminine from the masculine, the yin from the yang.
Is it possible that these women are just, you know, really into their careers? That they’re good at what they do and enjoy doing it? That they want to make a difference in the world? That they might have a family to support? Or that, you know, they simply like making a lot of money?
Of course not. For Roissy, careers are little more than psychological crutches for women who are 1) trying to distract themselves from loneliness and/or sexual boredom:
It’s quite possible that the worst offenders — the 14 hour day lawyercunts and the graduate school hermits — embrace the male-oriented rat race and achievement spectacle because it offers a welcome distraction from either spinsterly loneliness or boring beta male partners who, while intellectually are rationalized as good matches, do not viscerally excite them.
Or, 2) imagining themselves as the heroines in some glamorous romance novel:
Maybe, too, these careerist chicks see their jobs as a way to enter the world of the alpha male, to have a taste of what it would be like to be part of his life. The office cubes and doormen and glassy skyscrapers have given legions of plain janes the daily stimulation to mentally masturbate fantasy romances with the alpha males who run their companies or the alpha salesmen who greet them at the front desk with a twinkle in their eyes.
Or, 3) trying to magically ward off the case of the uglies that apparently infects each and every woman when she hits the age of 40:
When a woman’s SMV [Sexual Market Value] inevitably craters in her 40s, her career might be all she has to lift her spirits, especially if she has no husband she loves, no kids, or even just one kid who spends most of his time playing CoD or robbing convenience stores.
Of course, in Roissy’s mind, these women aren’t quite women to begin with, even before they get hit with the 40th birthday ugly stick:
[T]here is something “off” about women who are excessively devoted to their careers and to obtaining an acronymic parade of pointless credentials. Careerist shrikes are some of the most unpleasant, unfeminine women to be around. They must have more androgen receptors than normal women to be so grating to the male sensibility. Sure, they can fuck like Viagra-laced male pornstars, but as soon as you relieve yourself in them you will feel a second powerful urge to escape their aggro nastiness.
Yeah, somehow I’m guessing that urge to flee is pretty strong in these women as well, as soon as they realize that they guy they’ve just had sex with is a pretentious narcissistic windbag who hates women.
Roissy continues, revealing far more about his own sexual insecurities than about any actual career women:
The women for whom career success is their comfort and their purpose are some sort of weird, monstrous amalgam of man and woman, halfway between both worlds, their sexual polarity askew. These types tend to attract either intense short term flings with alphas or plodding marriages with dweeby, effete kitchen bitches.
Roissy is vaguely aware that feminists – not to mention pretty much anyone who isn’t a complete douchebag misogynist – might have a few issues with his theories here.
The dumbfuck feminists will naturally ask, “Why doesn’t this same theory apply to men? Aren’t they escaping sad love lives by retreating to their careers?”
Don’t you know it’s different for guys? Unlike women, men are evolutionarily programmed to be resource providers for women. It is not a betrayal of a man’s innate purpose in life to ambitiously pursue achievement and accolades. In fact, just the opposite; it’s an affirmation of that ancient purpose.
Remember this, you ungrateful career ladies: WE HUNTED THE MAMMOTH TO FEED YOU!
Scott Adams: Male Chauvinist Peg
Sexy!
Oh, Scott Adams! Can you write anything about that whole man-woman business without being a creepy douche about it? In a recent blog post titled “Pegs and Holes” – which refers to exactly what you think it refers to — Adams offers his take on the powerful men who have been in the news lately because, as Adams puts it, they’ve been “tweeting, raping, cheating, and being offensive to just about everyone in the entire world.”
After noting that the “current view of such things is that the men are to blame for their own bad behavior” and that this “seems right” to him – gee, ya think? – Adams decides to get all philosophical on us. (When you’re Scott Adams, this is a very very bad idea.) He writes:
The part that interests me is that society is organized in such a way that the natural instincts of men are shameful and criminal while the natural instincts of women are mostly legal and acceptable. In other words, men are born as round pegs in a society full of square holes. Whose fault is that? Do you blame the baby who didn’t ask to be born male? Or do you blame the society that brought him into the world, all round-pegged and turgid, and said, “Here’s your square hole”?
I’m assuming that Adams doesn’t actually think that baby boys are born with erections, and realizes that it is biology, not society, that hands out penises and vaginas to babies in the first place. I’m just trying to understand the whole pegs and holes metaphor. Why does he think “round” penises and “square” vaginas are somehow incompatible? In the context of consensual sex, after all, penises of all shapes and sizes generally fit into vaginas quite nicely.
As far as I can figure it out, the round-vs-square analogy simply refers to the fact that men can’t simply stick their “round pegs” into any conveniently located “hole” whenever they feel like it. The fact that these “holes” aren’t accessible to any random guy thus renders them “square.” This seems to frustrate Adams, who goes on to complain that “society has evolved to keep males in a state of continuous unfulfilled urges, more commonly known as unhappiness” and that “society is organized as a virtual prison for men’s natural desires.”
Looking at Hugh Hefner’s marital history – he’s been married and divorced and just got stood up at the altar – Adams concludes that:
For Hef, being single didn’t work, and getting married didn’t work, at least not in the long run. Society didn’t offer him a round hole for his round peg. All it offered were unlimited square holes.
What does this even mean? I suspect that over the course of his lifetime, Hef has had about all the sex he could possibly want, and then some. Is it somehow unjust that he couldn’t force his latest fiancée to actually marry him? Or that some women are sexually unavailable – that is, square holes – to him?
It goes without saying that Adams’ notions of human sexuality are profoundly insulting to both men and women . On the one hand, he’s suggesting that men are basically all potential rapists walking around with, er, turgid pegs; and, on the other, he seems to regard women as little more than passive (if stubbornly recalcitrant) receptacles for these male “pegs.”
And so it’s hardly surprising that his grand solution to the conundrum he’s invented is a rather depressing one. After noting that it really wouldn’t be a good thing for men to go around willy-nilly raping women and/or, as he puts it, tweeting their meat, he suggests the real solution is for men to be chemically castrated. And no, I’m not making that up. Here’s Scotty:
I think science will come up with a drug that keeps men chemically castrated for as long as they are on it. It sounds bad, but I suspect that if a man loses his urge for sex, he also doesn’t miss it. Men and women would also need a second drug that increases oxytocin levels in couples who want to bond. Copulation will become extinct. Men who want to reproduce will stop taking the castration drug for a week, fill a few jars with sperm for artificial insemination, and go back on the castration pill.
That might sound to you like a horrible world. But the oxytocin would make us a society of huggers, and no one would be treated as a sex object. You’d have no rape, fewer divorces, stronger friendships, and a lot of other advantages. I think that’s where we’re headed in a few generations.
Is he being serious here, or is this all some satirical “social experiment?” Who the fuck knows. Though I suspect if I accused him of being serious, he’d claim he was being satirical. And vice versa. Because that’s just the way he is.
Also, while I’m at it: the idiomatic expression about pegs and holes posits a square peg and a round hole, not the other way around. Why did Adams reverse this? Why!? Why!!?? Is he trying to drive us all mad?
EDITED TO ADD: Check out Feministe for more on Scott Adams and his peg.
EDITED AGAIN: And Pharyngula as well.
Internet Inactivism and the MRA Paradox
MRA in action
As I’ve pointed out before, the vast majority of Men’s Rights Activists aren’t really activists at all, if by “activists” you mean people who occasionally get off their asses and try to engage in political activity in the real world. As I put in in my piece for the Good Men Project on misogyny in the Men’s Rights movement,
Men’s rights activists aren’t much like any other activists I’ve ever run across. For one thing, for supposed activists they are almost completely inactive. Sure, they complain endlessly about things they see as terrible injustices against men. They just don’t do anything about them. While some of those who consider themselves fathers’ rights activists—a slightly different breed from your garden-variety MRAs—try to influence laws and legislatures, MRAs do little more than cultivate their resentments.
MRAs seem to be good at one thing, and one thing only: posting angry comments on websites, whether their own or on those of their many enemies – whether that’s on blogs like this one or in the comments section on various mainstream media sites they consider “misandrist.” (Actually: that’s not entirely fair – on a few occasions, MRAs have been moved to make threatening phone calls as well.) They don’t raise money for anything but their own web sites and their pet projects. They don’t organize demonstrations that involve more than a tiny handful of people. Like, for example, this one, involving one dude dressed like Batman who climbed up onto a highway sign:
Or this one, which involved a dude dressed up as Batman and a dude dressed up as Robin, climbing up on a bridge.
If your protests typically involve fewer people than, say, the line of people waiting to use the Redbox video rental kiosk outside your local supermarket on a Friday night, I think it’s safe to say that yours is not a mass movement, at least not yet.
Am I being unfair in demanding MRAs actually, literally,get off their asses before I consider them to be activists? Perhaps.
But, as it turns out, MRAs aren’t much good at sitting-on-your-ass activism either. Case in point: For quite some time – weeks? months? — MRA elder Paul Elam has been urging readers of his blog A Voice For Men to sign a petition to disbar a District Attorney he and other MRAs have decided is corrupt. But despite his repeated pleas to his readers to sign the thing, it has not yet garnered the required 1000 signatures, even though at least a few of his readers have talked about signing it more than once. [Edited to add: it has now gotten more than 1000 signaturesd.]
Today, this particular example of internet inactivism prompted Elam to lash out at his non-signing readers. Declaring himself “tired and frustrated” and “sick of this shit,” he once again begged his readers to sign. Then he went a step further, suggesting that he might limit commenting on his site to “activists that are contributing to this site in one way or another” as a way of encouraging activism and discouraging those who are “sucking up air and doing little else.”
I don’t think further exhortation on his part – or limiting the comments there to “real” activists only – is likely to make much difference. [Edited to add: Nagging a few more people to spend two minutes signing an online petition is one thing. Actually transforming them into real activists is another.] Elam is running up against the inherent paradox of Men’s Rights “activism” – the fact that most of those complaining the most about alleged injustices against men are not in fact interested in changing anything. Their “activism,” as it were, is little more than an excuse to wallow in their own bitterness, and to blame others for their own problems.
If MRAs really cared about domestic violence against men – as opposed to using the issue as a rhetorical weapon against feminists – they would be raising money and devoting their time to actually building shelters, like the (mostly) women who built the first shelters decades ago, and the (mostly) women who keep these shelters going today. If MRAs were really interested in stopping prison rape, instead of simply complaining about it, they’d be donating money to or working with the advocacy group Just Detention or other groups concerned about the treatment of prisoners. If they were really interested in helping those falsely accused of rape or other crimes, they’d be working with The Innocence Project or some other group fighting for the falsely accused or convicted. Or they would be starting real organizations of their own.
But that’s not, at heart, what the MRM is about. For all but a tiny handful of real activists, it’s not about changing the world. It’s about creating a space where men can kvetch and blame and cultivate their own sense of martyrdom. Actually trying to change the real world would involve , well, going out into the real world, a place where their assertions about the alleged oppression of men are seen as the nonsense they are, a place where their bitterness and hatred of women is seen as bitterness and hatred rather than the righteous anger they like to imagine that it is.
When MRAs do venture out of their self-created bubble they tend to either make fools of themselves – like Batman on the highway sign in the video above – or to reveal themselves to be the angry fanatics they are. Elam, for his part, sometimes even has trouble making his case in the relatively sympathetic environment of the Men’s Rights subreddit on Reddit, and is quickly reduced to sputtering rage when anyone disagrees with him. In the end, sputtering rage seems to be what the MRM is really all about.
Don’t Trust Any Vagina Over Twenty-five
Marilyn Monroe, 8 years past her expiration date.
In the spring, a young man’s fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love. And, at least if he’s straight, vaginas. Even if this young man happens to be a not-so-young man, and one who is defiantly Going His Own Way and thus theoretically immune to the vagina’s siren song. At least that’s the case with one regular over on the Happy Bachelors forum who recently set forth some intriguing theories on vaginas. Specifically, vaginas older than 25. What “Superbad” calls his “Golden Vagina Rule” is pretty simple: “Don’t trust any vagina over 25.” As he explained in a recent thread:
Social commentary written (or spoken) by a woman whose vagina is over 25 years old can be considered mostly bullshit. Null and void. And here is why. You cannot expect a woman, whose primary function is to make babies (aka attract men), to be anything but bitter or dishonest after her eggs and looks start to go. …
And why is this? According to Superbad,
when a woman’s sexuality declines (whored out, dried up vagina, menopause, postpartum depression, psychologically-induced frigidity, insanity, etc.) that she starts blaming men and talking a lot of hate and nonsense.
Just a few quick notes here: Female sexuality is not a finite resource; you cannot use it up by having sex on a regular basis. Nor do vaginas dry up like dead flowers when a woman passes the age of 25. Generally speaking, when a woman is interested in having sex with you, and you don’t just shove your dick in her without so much as a “how do you do,” lubrication is not a problem. If it is, for whatever reason, you can purchase bottles of lubricant at the local drug store. (This is also, FYI, how people are able to have butt sex.) Also, the average age of menopause is 51, not 25; though many believe menopause kills libido and “dries up” the vagina, this is probably a myth.
Oh, and also: mocking women for aging and/or suffering postpartum depression is not just a douchey thing to do, it’s practically psychopathic. Yes, physical beauty fades – eventually – for women and men alike. But having a complete and utter lack of empathy for your fellow human beings is an unattractive quality at any age. Speaking of unattractive beliefs, let’s continue:
The down side of people living longer, is that most women are going to be ugly for vast majority of their lives. That is obviously going to breed resentment and animosity. A woman’s time in the sun is brief. A man becomes more powerful with age. But a woman never gets any prettier. … Feminism has become a way for the uglier, older, less-fertile women to CONTROL young, virile girl’s orgasms and their sexuality.
At this point I feel I should remind Mr. Bad that the word “virile” actually means “manly,” in a general sense; more specifically, it means “capable of functioning as a male in copulation.” If you are interested in women with such capability — hey, let your kink flag fly! – there are several options available to you. (One of them may involve the purchase of equipment; they will all involve the lube I spoke of earlier.) If this isn’t what you want, you may wish to reword your post, and perhaps any dating profiles you may have put up on DoucheMatch.com or PlentyOfCompleteFuckingAssholes or wherever the fuck you may have put them up, so as to ward off any possible confusion on this point.
Superbad continues:
If you think women hate men; trust me, they’d just assume [sic] claw each others eyes out. And here is where a happy bachelor differs. Older men don’t feel the need to compete with younger men. Older men feel a bond with younger men. It is our duty to teach them and pass down any knowledge. We live in a world where the enemy is no longer a bear or tribal war. The enemy is packaged as pretty as a peacock: MARRIAGE. It is a way to sell the old vagina.
Yuck! Send that old hag to Carrousel!
Let’s try to work out the logic here. According to Superbad, marriage is a dastardly plot by evil feminists to bind men to vaginas over the age of 25, and presumably the women hosting them as well, who by definition are dried-up, whored-out ugly monsters (both the women and the vaginas, presumably).
Feminists are also trying to “CONTROL” the sexuality of young, fertile (yet also virile) women/vaginas, presumably by keeping them from having sex with … Superbad, who, as a Man Going His Own Way, doesn’t even want to be with women in the first place?
The ideal world, evidently, is one in which men of all ages get to have sex with under-25 vaginas (and their women), and are free to reject outright all women/vaginas older than that. In order to accommodate men of all ages, of course, these young women/vaginas will have to have sex with lots of different men. This will, of course, make them, by Superbad’s reckoning, “whores.”
Forget the old virgin-whore dichotomy; in Superbad’s sexual utopia all women/vaginas will pass through three stages: starting out virgins, they will, for a brief period in their late teens and early twenties, be whores; then, after the age of 25, they will be consigned to the whore-heap of history and become hags.
Superbad has it all figured out. And, as he explains in another comment, these poor gals will have no one but the feminists to blame:
[N]on-fertile women (read: ugly, old, bitchy) are always mad when they see young girls worshiping our cocks… old habits die hard. women are lazy. feminism requires women to get off their fat asses, work, and compete with smarter/stronger beings. most get a taste of “feminism”: working retail and getting fvcked/chucked monthly… and then end up online, looking for a “real man”. but, unfortunately, all the boys that the last generation of femi-turds raised are wimps. so, ladies, here is the game plan. get on your knees when young (so we can rent your mouth and vagina) and THEN, later, wise up, get angry, and MAN UP… and live alone with your cats. Feel free to get online as an old bat and “school” us men. LOL
Yes, Superbad has appended a “LOL” to the tail end of his comment, as if it were some sort of Internet-age equivalent to the more traditional Q.E.D. (Pro-tip: It’s not.) Still, his comments did make me LOL a little, or at least chuckle quietly to myself. Not with you, Superbad. At you.
NOTE: If you didn’t get that reference to “carrousel” earlier, perhaps this scene from Logan’s Run will jog your memory:
Desperately Seeking Übermenschen
Hey ladies!
The general line amongst manosphere misogynists is that American women are a bunch of stuck-up princesses whose “ginas” – that is, vaginas – tingle only in the presence of “thugs” and “alpha males.” But one YouTube ranter calling himself LogicJunkie has a somewhat different theory, as he recently explained in a note to the moderator of the Happier Abroad forums. American women, it turns out, are basically all Nazis at heart, “preoccupied with … eugenic perfection in males.” Let’s follow LogicJunkie’s, er, logic:
American females regard as a “creep” any guy who isn’t at least six feet tall, with a pronounced chin, a jock physique, and, in general, Ken doll good Aryan looks. And money is important, too, but not nearly as important as the physiological eugenics. So, in good Germanic fashion, I think what they’re mainly concerned about, is somehow being contaminated by the mere presence of the inferior. …
America is, now more than ever, a Germano-eugenicist death camp, wrapped in the facade of “capitalism” and “corporatism” and “pop culture” and blah, blah, blah. But it’s all about covertly advancing the genetic omnipresence of the Teutonic physiological ideal.
I hate to poop on LogicJunkie’s logic here but, dude, if all the women you’re meeting turn out to be eugenics-obsessed, Aryan-fetishizing Nazis, it does not therefore follow that all American women are eugenics-obsessed, Aryan-fetishizing Nazis. It may just mean you should stop cruising for chicks at Klan meetings.
Lara Logan Redux: More victim blaming, rape denial and rape apologetics from In Mala Fide
Screenshot of In Mala Fide
TRIGGER WARNING: Graphic descriptions of sexual assault; rape apologetics.
Journalist Lara Logan recently appeared on 60 Minutes, giving the harrowing details of the brutal sexual and physical assault she sustained at the hands of a mob while covering the protests for (60 Minutes) in Cairo this past February.
When news of the assault first hit the internet, you may recall, it seemed to open the floodgates of misogyny and racism. Looking at one Yahoo News story on the attack, I found hundreds of vile comments – some blaming Logan for her victimization, or doubting it ever happened; others using the assault as an excuse to spout hateful filth about Arabs and Muslims in general. In the “manosphere” itself, the reaction was predictably appalling, with many MRAs not only mocking and belittling the victim but using the case to push their own retrograde agenda. (See my post here for more details.)
Even within this context, the reaction of blogger Ferdinand Bardamu of In Mala Fide stood out for its sheer nastiness; I wrote about it here. In his first post on the subject, Bardamu mocked the victim, declared that “she had it coming,” then suggested that she probably hadn’t been raped at all. Based on no evidence whatsoever, he speculated that she may have just “made the whole thing up to garner attention and sympathy from the weepy, chivalrous masses. “
Bardamu has now used the occasion of Logan’s new CBS interview as an excuse to mock the victim again — calling her, among other things, an “idiot,” a “moron,” a “strumpet” and a “fake-breasted tart” — and to repeat his contention that she wasn’t “really” raped at all. Indeed, he says, the interview has “vindicated” his skepticism about the rape. Why? Because in her interview of 60 Minutes, Logan had spoken about being penetrated by the hands of her attackers. Bardamu evidently finds this highly risable, and somehow manages to convince himself that Logan was merely groped:
But seriously, “they raped [you] with their hands”?
Look, I’m no scholar, but even with feminists’ constant re-defining of rape, I know for a fact that rape has to involve a penis. Specifically, an penis entering an orifice without invitation. If you didn’t get a dick forced into your mouth, vagina or asshole, you didn’t get raped.
Logan and CBS’ deliberate vagueness about the “sexual assault” back in February was no doubt calculated to make people imagine the worst possible scenario that could happen. A line of hairy, creepy men pulling a train on her. Triple penetration at all times, the hairy sleazy monkey-men shooting jizz in every hole in her body, donkey punching her every time she tried to resist. In reality, she probably got spit on a few times, had her butt slapped, and had her silicone tits felt up. That’s not rape, you strumpet, that’s Spring Break in Cancun!
It’s hard to even know where to start with something this appalling. First of all, as a few dissenters pointed out in the comments on Bardamu’s post, it is still rape – “real” rape – when you are penetrated with fingers, bottles, or any other foreign object. When Abner Louima was brutally sodomized with the handle a bathroom plunger by New York city cops, that was rape, real rape. And what Logan says happened to her was real rape too.
As for the rest, I think the only thing to do is to contrast Bardamu’s words with Logan’s account of what happened to her, taken from a transcript of the interview.
As Logan tells the story of the assault, she and her crew were caught in the midst of a mob. Men grabbed her, groped her, and literally tore the clothes from her body. As she describes it:
I feel them tearing at my clothing. I think my shirt, my sweater was torn off completely. My shirt was around my neck. I felt the moment that my bra tore. They tore the metal clips of my bra. They tore those open. … [T]hey literally just tore my pants to shreds. And then I felt my underwear go.
Some men began beating her with sticks and others, with their hands, penetrated her. In this and the following passages I’ve bolded the statements dealing specifically with the sexual aspect of the assault. Logan again:
I didn’t even know that they were beating me with flagpoles and sticks and things, because I couldn’t even feel that. Because I think of the sexual assault, was all I could feel, was their hands raping me over and over and over again. …
They were tearing my body in every direction at this point, tearing my muscles. And they were trying to tear off chunks of my scalp … not trying to pull out my hair, holding big wads of it, literally trying to tear my scalp off my skull. And I thought, … I am going to die here.
This assault lasted 25 minutes. Logan says:
[T]hat’s when I said, “Okay, it’s about staying alive now. I have to just surrender to the sexual assault. What more can they do now? They’re inside you everywhere.” So the only thing to fight for, left to fight for, was my life.
Ultimately, Logan was rescued and rushed to the hospital. Logan continues:
I stayed there for four days, which was hard. My muscles were so unbelievably sore, because they were literally stretched from the mob trying to tear my limbs off my body. My joints, every joint in my body was distended. And then they, the more intimate injuries, the injuries, the tearing inside. And the mark of their hands, their fingers all over my body, cuts and everything you could imagine. But no broken bones.
This horrific account bears very little resemblance, it hardly needs to be said, to Spring Break in Cancun.
Naturally, a number of the commenters on Bardamu’s site manage if anything to be even more vile than Bardamu himself.
McGlothin suggests that Logan probably enjoyed the experience:
It’s not impossible that she went all the way to orgasm when the testosterone filled raging men fingered and groped her. That would explain the vagueness of her description: she was way enjoying it so much that she could not remember precisely what happened except that they molested her manually.
Attila concurs:
This gynbot just wants attention, and is playing the “Arabs are animals” routine for brownie points. She probably got groped a little, in a way that she has never been groped before, and she may be reacting to the fact that she may have gotten a thrill out of it.
Commander Shepard throws some racism and “slut”-shaming into the mix:
She was raped by their hands? LOL. A pretty blond like Logan probably spent her youth getting gang banged by alphas. In this case the men were beneath her (dirty sand niggers) but even they didn’t penetrate. She’s probably more upset about her bruised ego than her bruised body.
Bardamu wrote his post, I should note, before the interview aired, and before anything beyond a few quotes from it had been published. But it is telling that he has not bothered to go back and watch or read the full account. Not that it would matter; he made up his mind on the case a long time ago, and I doubt that anything could change it. Like many in the “manosphere,” Bardamu and his fans see only what they want to see, and use their imagination – and their prejudices — to fill in the rest.
