The blogger Fidelbogen likes to think of himself as some sort of grand theoretician of “counter-feminist” thinking. Which means that his posts are usually far too long and ponderous to read, much less to write about. His ideas – at least judging from the few posts of his I’ve had the patience to wade through — are really not much more advanced than your typical MRA; he’s just much more pretentious (and long-winded) about it.
He is, in other words, the sort of guy who could take 3000 words to explain the rather basic MRA notion that women control men with their vaginas.
I mean that quite literally. Our excitable MGTOWer friend MarkyMark recently drew his readers’ attention to a 5-year-old post by Fidelbogen with the enigmatic title “Ideas Which Go Against the Grain,” which offers, yep, a 3000-word précis of the evils of pussy power. Perhaps against my better judgement, I’ve decided to give it a detailed look. Strap in!
I’ll give him credit for one thing: despite his vague title, Fidelbogen states his thesis quite plainly at the start:
Female sexuality is raised high upon an altar like a golden calf. Male sexuality is looked upon as a ratty old kitchen chair with a cracked vinyl seat, under suspicion of mildew.
Well, ok, not the very start. Right about here:
This disparity, this imbalance, this . . . . inequality, accounts for most of women’s power over men. By extension, it accounts for a great deal of feminism’s leverage in the realm of gender politics.
In other words: vagina=power.
I leave it to the poets to wax lyrical about the mysteries of the eternal feminine, and to the psychoanalytic priesthood to plumb its shadowy depths. As a political tactician and theorist, it is my cold-blooded task merely to figure out how the world works, blabbity blabbity bloo.
Ok, those last three words are my paraphrase of his argument. Focus, Fidelbogen, focus!
The higher valuation assigned to female sexuality generates a seller’s market for women in the so-called game of love. That is how the world works; women do not queue or cluster in quest of men’s favors. No, it is nearly always men who act this way around women.
And this leads to, yep, the dreaded Pussy Cartel:
Deprived of euphemism, the case is this: women have cornered the market on sexual intercourse, and are able to dictate the price and the accompanying politics much as OPEC might set the terms for oil. …
Understand, that the higher valuation of female sexuality translates into both female power and loss of male power. Since female supremacy is feminism’s driving ambition, it makes sense that the women’s movement has undertaken to siphon power away from men using every siphon hose imaginable.
Normally, I would assume this last bit was some kind of sniggering reference to blowjobs. As Fidelbogen seems to be utterly without a sense of humor, I have to assume it’s merely a belabored metaphor.
So how do the evil feminists siphon away male power? By driving along some sort of road:
Certain lanes, deeply rutted by age-old usage, serve handily along feminism’s route to power.
So after siphoning their way down this road, we (and the evil feminists) arrive at what I’ll call (to keep Fidelbogen’s metaphor going) “Courtship Lane.”
The word “courtship” is revealing. Men are the “courtiers”, which is to say lackeys or sycophants who wait upon the pleasure of their “lord”. In courtship, more often than otherwise, women hold all the cards. Feminists, being women, are well aware of this. But they are also aware that the realm of courtship, while being women’s greatest zone of power over men, is likewise a critical link in the chain of power which binds men specifically to the designs of feminist domination.
After a bit of empty rhetoric, Prof. F continues:
Most women are aware of their superior sexual bargaining power. And many women have been politicized to some degree (more or less) by feminist ideology. This latter group will most certainly carry their politicized outlook into the sexual bargaining arena, and in their minds both feminist ideology and the knowledge of their age-old power will meld together into a troublesome sort of hybrid entity.
Fidelbogen, alas, does not take the opportunity to name this dastardly “hybrid entity.” Let’s just call it THE FEMIGINA!! (In all caps, with two exclamation points.)
At this point, Prof. F loses what little steam his argument has, and begins prattling about this and that and the evils of feminism. I will attempt to convey the gist of it with the following excerpts. In order to truly capture the flavor of it, I will replace the traditional ellipses – used to indicate excised material – with the phrase “blabbity blabbity.”
Blabbity blabbity to gauge the extent of feminist indoctrination among the female population would be like measuring the spread of a gaseous substance with a rubber band. Blabbity blabbity [f]eminism has blabbity blabbity secured a tremendous power over men by means of a momentous bio-political conjunction. Blabbity moral corona of the ideology blabbity female noosphere blabbity blabbity feminist-tinted spectacles blabbity blabbity the path lies clear before us.
And then he comes to his point:
Men should cease to value female sexuality beyond a certain fixed rate. Once the cost exceeds this rate, the value should fall to zero—leaving the purveyors in their deserted market stall.
Yep. That’s right. He’s talking about what we here on Man Boobz know as the Cock Blockade.
Blabbity blabbity it would go against nature blabbity blabbity laborious gritting of teeth. Blabbity blabbity supremely human accomplishment. Blabbity blabbity we are more than simply animals.
And he comes to another point:
Devaluation of female sexuality would alter the balance of power between the sexes. There would come a point where a man, any man, could make the personal choice to cast loose from women altogether—in all but the peripheral aspects of his life.
Blabbity blabbity men would need to cut each other some slack blabbity blabbity stop competing with other men in the customary arena where female flesh is the prize. Blabbity blabbity. The question “are ya getting any?”, along with the adolescent mindset it signals, would be out of place in this altered scheme of things.
And this would put the ladies in their place – standing lonely in their vagina stalls, gamely trying to interest men in their now worthless vaginas.
Women would be the courtiers, the ones who queue and cluster. Deny women their fundamental age-old power, and feminism would find itself reeling in shock as though from a serious blood loss. The best way for men to free themselves from the boa-constrictor grip of feminism is to free themselves from the power of women.
So now I have the image of lady boa-constrictors with head wounds standing in a line, displaying their boa-constrictor vaginas with a sort of desperate hopefulness to the wholly uninterested men who pass by.
After a good deal of blathering so tedious it’s not even worth quoting in part, Fidelbogen begins to ponder the power of “no.”
[M]en must play hard to get. They must learn to exercise the very same option which has historically been the province of women, namely, the power to say NO.
Saying no lies coiled at the very heart of playing hard to get. Saying no signifies a withdrawal which generates a vacuum along its line of retreat, and this vacuum by its draft draws the other into a pursuit by default.
I feel a bit of a breeze myself, but I think that’s just because Prof. F is talking a lot of wind.
Let’s move from breezes to earthquakes:
The changes I am discussing here would amount to a tectonic realignment of unquestionably world-historic magnitude. An inversion of the Victorian pedestal.
The old way of doing things, Prof. F tells us,
I have decided to call it the pussy paradigm—a somewhat vulgar expression to be sure, but it has the common touch!
Ironically, the common touch is something hetero dudes will have to become masters at if they swear off the ladies. Prof. F continues:
So, this pussy paradigm belongs in the category of things which predate feminism’s arrival in the world. And when the feminists got here, they saw in a flash where their advantage lay, and they closed in, and they threw a harness around it.
They threw a harness around a paradigm?
The heart of feminism is female supremacism, and the heart of female supremacism is the pussy paradigm. Remember this if you remember nothing else.
So what does Prof. F call his pussy-optional way of doing things? The “optionality paradigm.” That is, dudes can have sex with women or not, whatever they want, and shouldn’t pressure one another to score with the ladies. (I’m not quite sure how, in Professor F’s economic model, the price of pussy can be reduced to zero if some dudes are still interested in it, but I confess that I only sort of skimmed that bit of his post. Life is short, and Fidelbogen’s posts are long.)
More blabbity blabbity:
The future, in theory, should see a migration of the optionality paradigm toward the center of the map within hetero-normative male culture, along with a corresponding displacement of the pussy paradigm toward the perimeter. This would exactly reverse the present disposition of forces. The optionality paradigm would, at that point, become the ruling paradigm.
After reading this turgid turd of a paragraph , I decided to cut my losses and skip directly to Professor F’s grand conclusion. Which turns out to be neither grand nor much of a conclusion:
My endeavor in writing has been to flesh it out somewhat. To write about it is to give it a form, to make the inchoate choate, to fashion an anchor of words that can hold things usefully in place so we can discuss them, if need be, with a view toward implementation and concrete action. The time to draft contingency plans is now. Put these ideas in your thinking cap and ponder their utility.
Even better, put them in a small bag, weigh it down with rocks, and toss it into the nearest large body of water.
Jesus, this turned into a long post. Still, it’s only about half the length of Prof. F’s original.
I’ll admit it, Ginmar, being told that I’m the wrong sort of woman to be a feminist really does touch a nerve. (Especially when the wording often comes perilously close to “we don’t want sluts in feminism.” I didn’t say anything about “sexy,” but you got that in there, dincha?)
I agree that George Lucas’s movies are hardly paragons of feminism, but I think Leia is straight-up badass, she’s badass despite the bikini and she spends plenty of time being badass outside it, and I feel like ripping the character down entirely is ripping down the idea that someone can be a positive female character despite having problems.
Yes. Women, please stop throwing your vaginas at me. They’re starting to bruise my poor cube-dwelling flesh.
How about helping around the house? Even if you, a man, do all the yard work you’ve only done, at most, 20% of all household maintenance.
So being romantic is a chore? Going on vacation is an imposition?
You’re getting freaking resentful for having to TALK to your girlfriend!?! Do you even have any friends? If you can’t even be bothered to have a conversation with a person, WHY THE FREAK ARE YOU BREATHING?!?
I don’t think you’ll ever have to worry about that SINCE YOU CAN”T BE BOTHERED TO HAVE A CONVERSATION WITH A WOMAN IN THE FIRST PLACE!
Oh, and if I disagree with you, clearly I’m dying for male attention?
Fuck you’re a misogynist if you can’t think of any other reason a woman would think differently than you do.
Oh god this is always so embarrassing. You can almost pinpoint the very second all these sad, sad boys realize, for the very first time, that they may not be all-powerful heroes and dictators of destiny, despite what they’ve been taught – or, really, not taught – from birth.
Trying to reason oneself out of a boner is so pathetic.
It is a pity that someone cannot like things like Star Wars without be labeled an anti-feminist and a MRA suck up.
Go rip DKM a new one Ginmar and leave those of us who fail this purity test of yours alone. There are better outlets for your anger then your fellow feminists.
Ginmar: That’s… way harsh. Disagreeing with you about pop culture characters does not call for that kind of reaction.
Seraph, much as I appreciated the lengthy reply—I’m going to bed, as being humorless all day prevents me from cracking a smile during my heavy schedule of whip-cracking, , castrating, and cackling victoriously because I’m the best feminist of them all—–the point about Han choosing has nothing to do with rank or organization. The eternal sexist trope is that men choose, women are chosen. Men leave, women are left. In the context of relationships, to choose, to leave, is to be the one in the position of power. Even a princess fears rejection as no man can. Leia fears Han leaving. That’s not the princess talking, it’s a Fifties melodrama. By putting in only one major female character per movie, Lucas pretty much said, “This is what it’s like for all women. This is a powerful woman, but her power is nothing compared to any guy.” MRAs love this idea, and hate it that women aren’t humbled by it in real life. MRAs long for a world in which even a princess fears solitude without men. Women get raised to have low self esteem and low self image, so for a woman, rejection can be more devastating than anything a man can imagine. A man who challenges gender roles—especially if he chooses his words and image carefully—is a hero. A woman who does so is an unnatural thing. A single dad is a woobie. A single mother is Casey Anthony.
But tell me, Ginmar, what is a sexy woman who likes men?
Not gonna back down on “feminism is for good girls,” huh?
Personally, I think Han is actually very anxious about being rejected by Leia, but since he’s a Manly Man, channels it into sarcasm and fake indifference.
And thus one finds out why feminists are so reviled.
Holly accuses me of being Miss Ultra Purity Dworkinite Feminist because I argue that casting one woman per trilogy )and that in twenty years) and gradually turning her into a doormat is rather suspect as a feminist maneuver.
That’s it. That’s the whole of her response. No details, just the accusation that I’m Miss Ultra Humorless Feminist, which serves to place herself as …..the opposite. What’s a Miss Humorless Feminst, by the way? Does that sound familiar?
Oh, did I miss anything? I’m accused of being a purist. Again…one woman per trilogy? Padme dies after giving birth. Let’s ignore the outfits. Leia starts out badass, then goes to “You could use a good kiss!” to wearing a slave girl outfit—how many men do this?—-to not needing that kiss anymore, heh heh heh. Hell hath no fury like a Star Wars fan disturbed.
The link I linked pointed out Holly criticizing exactly the kind of accusation she flings at me here. Double standard much?
If you’re going to basically accuse me of being an unshaved, humorless, sweaty, smelly, every-stereotype-there-is feminist, it’s profoundly hypocritical to object to anything I use in response, especially if it points out that you are offering yourself as the exact opposite of what you accuse me of.
Ginmar, you aren’t Allecto from LiveJournal, the one who wrote those rants about Firefly, are you?
I do agree that the lack of other female roles in the films is a legitimate problem, the largest gender issue in the films, IMO. Making one character a badass doesn’t excuse the fact that there’s only one of her. But neither does it mean that the films have no interesting of positive points from a feminist perspective.
I guess, Holly, that you’re going to ignore accusing me of Being Ultra Humorless Feminazi? Oh, yeah, and the link I posted shows you objecting to that very label.
I’m just living up to your description of me. Obviously, I’m fat, ugly, old, hairy, can’t get a man, have shit loads of cats, and hate life because I’m the Ultra Feminst! you accuse me of. Do I at least get a tee shirt?
Really, what do you think will happen when you throw stereotypes around? You’re more or less accusing someone else of living up—-or down—-to the stereotype you invoked. Doesn’t that rather imply you’re the opposite?
Huh, suddenly I feel less bad for telling Ginmar to cool it earlier. Perhaps I sensed a disturbance in the Force?
Ginmar, I never said you were unshaved/humorless/sweaty/smelly.
I did take offense at the fact that you used my “sexiness” to dismiss me. (And Leia, for that matter, but she was written by a man so that’s a bit more debatable. I am not written by a man, thank you very much.)
It’s one thing to criticize a movie that I’ll freely agree is tragically woman-deficient, it’s another to start throwing people out of the Feminist Club if they don’t agree with you on every little detail–and it’s a third and far nastier thing to throw in the implications that I’m a dopey little blowjob doll.
Leia gets shot during a covert operation after the slave girl scene, and she starts the first film helplessly imprisoned. So her arc doesn’t go from badass to helpless.
And quit wanking at Holly. I don’t even see where she mentioned anything about humorless feminists, but she has brought up several highly pertinent points that you’ve been too busy tearing up straw men to respond to.
Katz, if you’d cared anything at all, you could have answered your own question yourself. I have blogged and written under this name for at least ten years. I have not changed it, despite stalking, rape threats, harassment, and bullshit.
But by all means, don’t let that stop you. I’m hoping I’ll get my Dworkinite badge.
“Seraph, much as I appreciated the lengthy reply—I’m going to bed, as being humorless all day prevents me from cracking a smile during my heavy schedule of whip-cracking, , castrating, and cackling victoriously because I’m the best feminist of them all…”
Ginmar, I know you’re new and all, but you’re acting like we haven’t already heard all these stereotypes before. Most of them are directed at the commentators on here daily. 😛
Ginmar, you’re berserking again. I knew this would happen when I saw you’d come back, because it happens sooner or later every time, no matter where you go. Everything is fine for a while, you have insightful comments and interesting stories, and you’re good at reducing trolls like MRAL to frothing rage.
Then something sets you off. It starts slow, and by the time it’s clear that you are Deadly Serious, it’s too late. You start declaring that the people who disagree with you aren’t True Feminists, that in their disagreement they’re pandering to the patriarchy. Then when they get mad at you for that, you incorporate it into the narrative of their faux feminism. I mean, where are you getting this “smelly, hairy” stuff? Do you even need the rest of us to participate in this conversation, or do you already have it scripted out in your head?
You know where this ends. You keep lashing out, getting nastier and nastier until Dave is forced to put you one moderation, at which point you leave because you won’t stand for the injustice. Maybe this time you don’t come back, but the cycle starts again at the next feminist blog you find.
Don’t you ever get tired of it?
Seraph: Wait, she’s been here BEFORE? How did I miss her?
Oh no, ginmar, you’re onto me. You’ve cleverly discovered that I was in fact making a satirical point by drawing attention to how much you sound like one of the most notoriously absurd feminists on the internet. And I would have gotten away with it, too, if it hadn’t been for you meddling kids.
Oh, come on, Holly. Own it. Or is the standard for feminism so low in this place that you can seriously claim that shit like this:
…doesn’t have a larger context?
Refuse to like anything?
You like some things and thus won’t be the ultra total perfect feminist you label me as?
Yeah, there’s no social context for calling a feminist Alpha and saying she doesn’t like ANYTHING.
I’m a blue collar feminist. I did twenty years in the Army and you saying I don’t like anything….because I don’t like what you like….sounds awfully familiar to me. Except it usually comes in the slightly more subtle form of, “But you’re just looking for shit to get pissed off about. I hate Shakesville, but the Feminism 101 stuff is pretty good and dates to before it got all “OMG, dwarf star is ableist!!”
Or maybe it falls under humorless, because you accused me—not once, but twice—of not liking anything?
Anything you accuse me of, you’re labeling yourself as being the opposite.
Ginmar, no one accused you of being a “unshaved, humorless, sweaty, smelly, every-stereotype-there-is feminist.” But you’re constantly pulling this “more-feminist-than-thou” shit whenever anyone here disagrees with you about anything up to and including Princess Leia. That’s what Holly was calling you on. And you responded … by pulling yet more “more feminist than thou” shit:
It’s tedious. And the fits you throw whenever people challenge you; seriously, you’re nearly as melodramatic as NWO.
Molly: Yeah. Little while ago. Same cycle.
I’m a blue collar feminist. I did twenty years in the Army and you saying I don’t like anything….because I don’t like what you like….sounds awfully familiar to me.
What the…how does this even follow? What does one of these have to do with the other?
And would it be counterproductive to bring up the Expanded Universe at this point?
Oh Ginmar, OWN the part where you called me out for being “sexy” and probably wanting to have sex with the MRAs.
For me, that alone–and the fact that you’re studiously avoiding acknowledging it–keeps me from having any respect for you as The Arbiter Of What Feminists Shall Think. Because you seem to think that a woman’s opinion is devalued based on the sex she has. (Or probably has, because, c’mon, see how she talks in front of the guys.)
As for Star Wars… yeah, I do feel like you’re trying to get feminist cred by playing the “I’m such a critical feminist thinker, I’m offended by everything” game, yeah, and the fact that you named it doesn’t mean you aren’t doing it.
Ok, “Even though star Wars is sexist in places it’s not totally irredeemable” is NOT THE SAME AS what’s going on in your link:
Nobody did that.