Seen one feminist, seen them all.

So our dear friend Fidelbogen, self-declared Counter-Feminist Agent of Change and the wannabe philosopher-king of the Men’s Rights movement, has written an exceedingly dull and verbose post for A Voice for Men rehashing the whole Agent-Orange-RadFemHub-thing. Now, it’s a lovely, slightly too-hot Sunday afternoon here at Man Boobz headquarters, so naturally I didn’t do much more than lightly skim the whole thing. But I did notice this interesting little “argument” part way through.

Apparently Fidelbogen has concluded that it’s perfectly fine for critics of feminism to completely ignore the ideas of most feminists and focus only on the dogmas of the most radical of RadFems:

We should lay to rest the silly notion that such feminists as these are only “fringe radicals” or “extremists”, and that we mustn’t judge the entire movement by them. My question is, why shouldn’t we judge the entire movement by them? Compared to them, what do the moderate feminists really add up to? Anything much? What does a heap of feathers amount to, compared to a cannon ball? What really fuels feminism, anyway? Is it driven relentlessly forward by mellowness and grooviness — by fun, fluffy, happy feelings? Or does it run, let us say, on pure hate, pure spite, pure malevolence, pure malignancy? Well, you get the idea: darker emotions?

That weird choice of alternatives at the end is pretty much a textbook example of a “false dichotomy.” You would think that someone with a brain as big as Fidelbogen’s would be able to recognize and avoid such an elementary logical fallacy.

Fidelbogen continues:

Say what you will, but I am partial to the old maxim that happy people don’t make history. And which is more, I’ve got some experience with feminists; I have studied them, as chaps like me will do, and I have logged a few years in this trade. And I can attest that feminists are all alike. Monolithic, you might say. They vary in superficialities, but under all those sheathing layers lies the high-conductive cable core on which the feminist message travels. It is the same message every time. Every feminist I have ever personally encountered, or been informed of, differs from the radfems we are now studying only in the strength of the underlying signal. One way or another, let them veil it ever so artfully, the message never skips a beat: “Men are the problem. . . men are the problem . . . men are the problem.”

Dude, “projection” ain’t just a river in Egypt.