|Er, not so much.|
Sometimes this job is just too easy. Sometimes I don’t have to even bother to check in on my favorite manosphere sites to find hair-raisingly awful quotes to feature here. Sometimes the Boobz are thoughtful enough to leave them in the comments here.
Take this quote from resident MGTOWer Cold, who currently seems to be spending more time on this blog than I am, comparing rape and child support. (You don’t think these two items are actually in any way comparable? Clearly you do not understand Boob Logic.)
In response to commenter Amused, who pointed out that “being ordered to support a child you’ve fathered isn’t the same as being pinned down and penetrated against your will,” Cold responded:
Exactly, it’s much, much worse. The latter lasts for some number of minutes, the former for at least 18 years. Given the choice it would be a no-brainer for me, and I think a very large number of men agree with me on this.
Setting aside the appalling trivialization of rape as something that’s over in “some number of minutes,” what does this say about Cold’s attitudes towards children? Paying a couple of hundred buck a month to pay for some of the expenses for a child you fathered – your own flesh and blood – is worse than being raped?
If Cold ever becomes a father, through circumstances which are frankly too horrible to imagine, I feel safe in saying that he will not be winning any “father of the year” awards.
I can just imagine the following scenario, some 11 or so years into the future:
EXTERIOR, MOVIE THEATER
Cold’s 10-year-old son: Happy Father’s day, daddy! I’m so glad we’re going to see Toy Story 5! I love Woody!
Cold: Yeah, so does your whore mom, if you know what I mean.
Cold: When you get older, you’ll understand. Did I mention that you mom’s a whore? One, please!
Son: Um, daddy, why did you buy only one ticket?
Cold: It’s for me. Get your own. You get enough of my money as it is. I stick my dick in your mom for two fucking minutes, and I’m screwed for life. It’s worse than rape!
Son: Um, daddy, I don’t have any money. I’m ten.
Cold: Well, you should have thought of that when you were a sperm!
Son: When I was a what?
Cold: I’m going in. See you in two hours.
Son: Dad? What am I supposed to do now?
Cold: Not my problem! I’m Going Galt! I’m Going My Own Way! You were a MISTAKE!
Son quietly sobs
Cold: Hey, when we get back to your mom’s place later, remind me to tell her she’s a filthy whore.
And … scene!
(By the way, Cold actually does claim to be going Galt, if self-admitted tax evasion counts.)
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