Reddit MRAs, heeding the call to service, once again prove what dedicated activists they are. Check out the upvotes on this baby!
Today Urban Dictionary, tomorrow the world! (Also, check out those tags!)
Oh, and in case you were wondering, Reddit MRAs also wield a mean downvote; see definition numero dos.
Of course, Man Boobzers reign supreme where it really counts: the Rationalization Hamster meme!
You know what you should do? You should write a blog about it. You can talk all about how awful McCreight and Carrier are and how awesome TAA is.
pitchguest: Anyone with a modicum of decency wouldn’t have done what you did above.
Me… I don’t care about A+. I don’t spend time there, and the don’t impinge on my world. They aren’t hitting my nose with their fist.
So you implying I haven’t a modicum of decency because I’m apathetic about something which isn’t hurting me, and, so far as I can see, isn’t going out and seeking people to hurt… is pretty rich, since it looks like you posted video which is saying that it’s ludicrous to care about Amanda Todd being bullied to death because there are other people suffering.
It’s really rich since you’re beef with piegasm was that piegasm said, according to you, something very like that.
So, on the visible record here, you are getting zero marks for honesty, integrity, and humility.
But you have A level marks for whiny-assed titty-baby: I’d say you are well on your way to a degree in Butt-hurt with a definite area of interest in Manufactured Grievance.
Pitchguest…. did you read what I said? I said I wasn’t going to watch that video. I didn’t.
To be honest, since I didn’t watch it, I didn’t really read your apologia for it.
I’m going to give you a tip… when you come into a place where you aren’t known, telling the regulars they are full of shit,and you are just the high colonic they need, doesn’t go over well.
And.. in the comprehension dept. I wasn’t talking about TAA. I was talking about you. Dave said he had rules. You decided they didn’t apply to you. You are whinging about it. You are trying to do here, what he forbade there.
You are being a self-righteous dick.
If you want to do that, start your own blog. WordPress will host it for free.
Pitch, what part of me saying I don’t “want to make the blog comments here a platform for those offering excuses for TAA’s bullying of her after her death” did you not get?
You’re going on moderation and I’m deleting your shit about TAA and Todd here.
If you want to discuss other issues, have at it. If you want to discuss anything related to Todd, do it somewhere other than here.
Also, pitch, don’t drag your atheism + vendettas over here either.
Oh, for the love of little fishes, did TAA give you a secret decoder ring when you joined his fan club or what?
I hate to burst your bubble, fanboy, but I had a pretty poor opinion of TAA long before this. Back in February? The reddit kerfluffle? You know, when he told a rape victim: [TW]
And that was one of the least offensive things that he said? Look, you love you some TAA – more power to you. If you want to keep licking until you get to the tootsie roll center of that shitpop, you go right ahead.
His initial reaction to Amanda Todd’s suicide was repugnant; I don’t give a shit what subsequent posts/videos/half-assed apologia he’s offered up since.
Dude, once again – this is not the Atheism+ forum. If you have issues with the Atheism + forum, you need to address them over there. This is not the forum you are looking for, and we are not interested in watching you piss and moan about how much you dislike some other forum that most of the commenters here don’t participate in.
(Does David participate over there? Because if not I’m totally baffled as to why Schticky thinks that this forum needs to address whatever he dislikes about that one.)
Nobinayamu:
I don’t “love me some TAA”, I just don’t pathologically hate him like you, David, and most commenters of this blog does. But that was one of the things I wanted to bring up, too, in the other thread. You do know TAA is a rape victim too, right?
Whatever. It’ll probably get deleted. No comments “defending” TAA, no matter how small. It’s forbidden.
David: In other words, not talking about the things you’ve brought up in this post. Cheerio. So that’s memoryholing comments that’s been addressed and commented on by other users here and straight to moderation. Brilliant. If you wanted to make your blog look less of an echo chamber, you failed. Miserably.
Since when does TAA being a rape victim give him a pass to attack other rape victims? Do you even comprehend what he said? Do you grasp how disgusting his attack on Amanda Todd was? No, you don’t seem to at all. What part of the word ‘indefensible’ do you not understand?
As to echo chambers – that’s laughable. David gives a lot more leeway to the grotesque rantings of MRAs than they do to anyone who disagrees at all, however mildly. The very fact that he’s put up with your boring shite as long as he has is indication enough. And like all the rest of them (c’mon, are you Schtick the Terminally Boring or just his brother?) you miss the point of this blog. It’s not to discuss your oh-so-worthy ideas about putting women down. It is here to – I’ll spell it out for you –
M O C K M I S O G Y N Y.
Pitchy:
http://manboobz.com/comments-policy/
You might note this bit:
I ban pretty rarely, but really dude, when I specifically say a certain topic is off limits out of respect for a girl who killed herself, and you keep fucking bringing it up, well, what do you expect?
Kittehhelp, that was uncharacteristically vicious of you and undeniably righteous! Have some cats with bread on their faces.
David: Free, spontaneous discourse?
Nah.
That would be stupid.
From the new site Bread On My Cat?
Also, update – Schticky is the cure for insomnia. His comments today were so boring that they just caused me to take a nap (when I’m supposed to be finishing an article).
David: Can we get Schticky to shut up somehow?
Maybe just limit his posting.
That would be nice.
If all the other ridiculous and illogical things you’ve said hadn’t made it obvious already, this would put the cherry on the turd cake of just how much a waste of pixels you are.
@lowquacks – a Cats with Bread award!
My living has not been in vain. 🙂
Having finally caught up on this thread, I think it’s clear that Pitchy needs an outright ban, not just moderation.
Thank you! As refreshing as my nap was, I’m guessing that you’d rather your blog’s comments not put readers to sleep.
Oh, well fuck. There’s no way I can possibly counter that brilliant argument. Congratulations, sir, your insights have just brough the entire feminist movement to its knees.
The Dark Boobz Rises, Part One
INT. Manboobz Bar, Night
Gotham is a broken city. Whatever happiness and majesty the fine buildings once held has crumbled under endless waves of super villainy, misogyny, and anti-logic. Here patrons huddle like refugees, taking shelter in one of the last vestiges of folly and clear-headed discussion that the city has left.
They arrange themselves by type of discussion: on one in end of the bar, those preoccupied with mockery. LAURALOT cackles here, her wide red mouth contorting as she takes in the conversation from those on the other end, trying to make sense of the MRM that perverts their already defiled city.
INURASHII: They do realize they’re just proving Atheism + right, don’t they?
AN INCONVENIENT TRUTH pops up from behind the bar, shrieking about the Taliban. MYOO and LEFTWINGFOX dispatch him into the street with a swift kick to the coccyx and spleen, respectively. And nothing of value was lost.
THE KITTEH’S UNPAID HELP: Judging Islam by the Taliban is like judging Christianity by the Westboro Baptists. The real question is, do atheist groups suck so bad because of MRA invasion, or are they just dicks that attract MRAs?
There is murmured continued discussion and much disgust. AWORLDANONYMOUS tries to lighten the mood with a kitten, but the kitten is quickly appropriated by ANNE HATHAWAY in a gorgeous black body suit.
The door bursts open, slamming into the walls hard enough to rattle the frame. PITCH-SCHTICK-GUY-WHATEVER hulks in the entrance. He is dressed as a nineties anti-hero to such excess that Rob Liefeld would call him over the top, with rushed, shoddy construction. Imagine Azrael as Batman if Az had no fashion sense or knowledge of how armor actually works, and also if he were a drunk cosplayer with a budget of four dollars, a clove of garlic, and a shoe string.
Somewhere, an infant vomits, tears drying on its already disillusioned cheeks.
PITCH-SCHTICK-GUY-WHATEVER: WHERE IS HE?!
Everyone stares. ANNE HATHAWAY is long gone, the lucky jerk.
PITCH-SCHTICK-GUY-WHATEVER: Bring me David! He must suffer for dare to prevent me from mocking the death of a teenage girl! JUSTICE SHALL PREVAIL!
Everyone looks very hard at their drinks and not at the raving chauvinist running around in his cosplay pajamas. PITCH-SCHTICK-GUY-WHATEVER foams at the mouth, his Bat-ears – constructed from aluminum foil and Scotch tape – flopping in his reddened face.
PITCH-SCHTICK-GUY-WHATEVER: How dare a woman object to someone masturbating to her in public without her consent?! How dare someone suggest that rape is an ongoing trauma, but murder ends? Scum! Filth! I hate you all! MY PARENTS ARE DEAD!!!!
LAURALOT giggles, lank green hair hanging in her face.
LAURALOT: Aw, dudes, this is gonna be the best day.
@Lauralot
That was awesome.
The Dark Boobz Rises, Part Two
INT. Manboobz Bar, Night.
PITCH-SCHTICK-GUY-WHATEVER is still huffing and puffing and hating women. The patrons try to decide whether to join in LAURALOT’S mirth or to back away slowly. CLOUDIAH stands, hands up to defend against any bat shit The Dork Knight may fling.
CLOUDIAH: Riddle me this, jackass: is it really so hard to see why a woman wouldn’t want a man to make her part of a sex act against her consent?
PITCH-SCHTICK-GUY-WHATEVER: LACK OF WATER AND FOOD! THE HOMELESS DON’T HAVE BATHROOMS! YOU’RE ALL DELIBERATELY STUPID! MY PARENTS ARE DEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAD!
CLOUDIAH: …Ooookay then.
LAURALOT: Well, I finally figured out where my disappeared pencil went. It’s, uh, it’s up Guano Man’s ass.
PITCH-SCHTICK GUY-WHATEVER: SILENCE, HYENA!
TULGEY LOGGER: I’m pretty sure there are public bathroom stalls or-
PITCH-SCHTICK-GUY-WHATEVER: MISANDRY!!!! THEY HAVE NOTHING! NOTHING! AND THANKS TO YOUR FEIGNED DISGUST, THEY’LL BE ARRESTED! IF YOU COULD DENY THEM A HOT MEAL AND A BED IN THE PRISON YOU’D DO THAT TOO!
With a sigh, PECUNIUM sets down his beer and stands. He is Michael Fassbender and Gary Oldman all at once, and he is every bit as awesome as that entails and then some. Everyone with insight – that is, everyone besides Pitchy – feels a lightness in their heart, the sort of joy that only comes with knowing the police commissioner is about to hand someone his ass on a plate with extra burn garnish.
PECUNIUM: So you think being hassled by the cops, maybe arrested; and perhaps put on a sex-offender registry (which happens to be something I am strongly ambivalent about: I happen to think making them public ought to be criminal), is worth it, in the hope they get a “hot and a cot” for the night?
PECUNIUM looks to CLOUDIAH, then TULGEY LOGGER, then back to PITCH-SCHTICK-GUY-WHATEVER. His gaze is withering. On the floor, a cockroach flips onto its back, legs twitching.
PENCUNIUM (CONT’D): You also know that any disgust mentioned is “feigned.”
PECUNIUM’S smile is sparkling, winning, and entirely at PITCH-SCHTICK-GUY-WHATEVER’S expense.
PECUNIUM: Tell me Carnac, what else do you know? Could you give me the numbers for this weekend’s Powerball drawing?
PITCH-SCHTICK-GUY-WHATEVER slowly begins to realize that in this situation, he is the Daffy Duck to PECUNIUM’S Bugs Bunny. His shoulders still heaving with rage, he tries to think of a real clincher and, as is often the case with him, comes up empty-handed.
PECUNIUM (CONT’D): I’ll give you ten percent of the winnings.
In the back of the bar, LAURALOT falls of her stool, laughter drowning out the noise of her impact with the floor.
What effort PITCH-SCHTICK-GUY-WHATEVER would have put into a comeback is now diverted to expelling steam from his ears. He opens his mouth, takes a huge intake of oxygen, and does what he does best: bloviates.
PITCH-SCHTICK-GUY-WHATEVER: MISANDRY! ATHEISM! RAPE! AMANDA TODD! PUBLIC MASTURBATION!
The words are spilling out, lacking rhyme or reason. It is almost like a song. The patrons watch, transfixed. PECUNIUM’S smirk does not waver.
PITCH-SCHTICK-GUY-WHATEVER (CONT’D): DO YOUR OWN RESEARCH! IDIOTS! SEARCH FUNCTION! DEMENTIA! OBJECTIVITY! HE STARTED IT!
A hush falls over the room. DAVID FUTRELLE materializes from behind the bar, clad in blackness and Kevlar. His darkly lined eyes focus on the raving jackass, dispassionate, not even irritated.
PITCH-SCHTICK-GUY-WHATEVER does not notice, too busy foaming from the lips. The only thing he loves more than his hatred is the sound of his own voice, and he won’t let go of either without a hell of a fight.
PITCH-SCHTICK-GUY-WHATEVER (CONT’D): INAPPROPRIATE YOUTUBE VIDEOS! OBTUSE! FUCKING HOMELESS! JUDGMENT! HOITY-TOITY! CONSENT!
Rapt with his own idiocy, PITCH-SCHTICK-GUY-WHATEVER does not see DAVID FUTRELLE advancing toward him, does not note the dull sheen in the gloved hands beneath FUTRELLE’S cloak: The ban-hammer.
PITCH-SCHTICK-GUY-WHATEVER: OPEN BLOG! OPINION! BIASED NARRATIVE! MY PARENTS ARE DE-
DAVID FUTRELLE swings the ban-hammer. PITCH-SCHTICK-GUY-WHATEVER crumples to the floor, vile even in his unconsciousness. No one mourns, not even the fleas. Eyes sparkle only with joy.
DAVID FUTRELLE: Well, that was obnoxious.
He pauses for the obligatory cackle from LAURALOT, turns to PECUNIUM.
DAVID FUTRELLE: I’ll leave the clean-up to you.
PECUNIUM: And where will you go?
DAVID FUTRELLE’S eyes are animate now, burning with determination.
DAVID FUTRELLE: There will be more, more like him. More to mock and ban. My work is never done.
He is gone in a swirl of darkness and snark, leaving a hushed reverence in his silence. CASSANDRASAYS is the first to break it.
CASSANDRASAYS: Why did he leave?
PECUNIUM: Because he has to mock them.
CASSANDRASAYS: He hasn’t done anything to deserve that sort of torture.
PECUNIUM: Because he’s the hero the Internet deserves, but not the one it needs right now. So he’ll drag himself through the dreck, because he can take it. Because he’s not a journalist. He’s a blog writer, a snarky commentator. A dark knight.
Completely awesome music swells. We sit in silence, dumbstruck by the sheer wonderfulness, sacrifice, and entertainment. The air is thick with awe. Then-
LAURALOT: Well, that was fun. Who’s for Chinese?
*gives LauraLot ALL OF THE INTERNETS*
Haha wow, I missed a lot!
Pitchy sure was a piece of work. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone expend that many words deriding someone for being upset at being masturbated at.