Usually I venture into the manosphere to collect the latest misogyny, but sometimes it’s delivered right to my door. Here, some intriguing thoughts on women, from an MRA who showed up in the comments here yesterday, and who has been delighting the regulars not only with his opinions but with his colorful writing style.
Here’s the dude calling himself Dragon Slayer, on how young women and their cell phones will bring about the death of feminism:
The feminist movement is doomed not because of us MRAs, but because of women. These days most women spend their youth with mouths agape, babbling on their cell phones and strutting around in public with the fatty sacks on their chests manipulated in such a way to attract a man’s attention. That’s literally all they do. Then once they get older they start looking to mortgage their pink clam off for private use in exchange for food and shelter. After that, they could give a shit about the rest of the world. So for your own sanity, I’d recommend you all just drop this feminism project.
Some thoughts on women and love:
I’m of the opinion that women aren’t really capable of love. I mean sure, they’ll barter access to various body parts- temporary bodyguard for butt action, manservant for intercourse, and such- but that’s not really “love” in the way it has been traditionally defined, by men. I suppose the only pure expression of “love” is that found between two men.
And some further reflections on that subject:
Evolution hasn’t programmed women to reciprocate affection. From a reproductive standpoint, they exist to gobble as much hot sour cream as possible and then propagate the species with the best DNA they can wrangle. Men, on the other hand, are programmed for targeted monogamous affection, the better to protect the female who chooses him as her sperm donor. In modern society, this dynamic has changed, as women don’t just require elite semen, but also financial security, which more often than not can be better provided by a biologically inferior male, to whom she transfers access to her love tube sometime in her early thirties.
So the pink clam is now a love tube? So confusing.
Is Dragon Slayer for real? I admit I’m not altogether sure. There’s some suspicion that he’s a sockpuppet of the legendary Man Boobz troll Arks; the writing style is similar, and, like Arks, the new guy puts bromance before ho-mance. Whether or not this is Arks II, I suspect he’s not purely trolling — that is, while trying to be inflammatory, he believes at least some of what he posts. And indeed, aside from the stuff about man-man love and the bit about men being programmed for monogamy, this is all stuff we’ve heard before from the evo-psych-obsessed dudes of the manosphere.
Mmm, fresh thread, teeming with possibilities.
I didn’t say anything when Dragon Slayer was around (mostly because I was off the Tubes yesterday), but wow was he … special.
I’d be insulted by his comments but fortunately my pink tubes of doom prevent me from feeling any feelings.
Sorry, Arks, but your best days are already behind you. You’re just never going to top “hot buttered manatees”, so you may as well give up now.
Huh, there I was thinking that most of these friends I have with whom I have intelligent conversations and geek out, but who aren’t men, are women.
Glad he pointed out my mistake.
I’m not sure how gobbling up “hot sour cream” (ew) would help to propagate the species, unless human gastro-intestinal systems and internal reproductive systems are associated in mysterious ways.
The way to a woman’s vagina is through her stomach. No, wait…
(Women don’t have hearts, obvs.)
I just love the idea of some dude coming along to explain what women are really like. As though those of us who are in fact women are going to go, “oh wow, you’re right! I’ve spent all my life thinking I actually knew what I was thinking and feeling, but now I realize the error of my ways!” Or possibly, “Dammit, they’re onto us! One pseudonymous guy on the internet has broken our secret code, now we must confess to the scores of men we’ve fooled in real life!”
I try not to think about it too hard. Which is easy, because I’m too busy laughing.
The way he talks about breasts being “manipulated in such a way to attract a man’s attention” makes me think that in Dragon Slayer World, women walk around clutching their breasts and pointing them in various directions whenever men walk by. That sounds hard to do while “babbling” and “strutting,” but more than that, it just sounds painful.
You know, it’s been my experience that breasts tend to attract the attention of some men regardless of whether or not any attempt is made to manipulate them. Unless by “manipulate” you mean “fail to bind into invisibility”.
It’s the Owly problem again, where dudes assume that women are existing at their boners just to be cruel.
Okay, so one time I had to see a nutritionist, and she was telling me to eat all this stuff like cottage cheese, and to drink milk, and whatever. And I told her that I thought that stuff was disgusting (so I couldn’t follow her advice). Apparently this means I was molested or something. (I wasn’t.) As with most things, the simplest explanation is the best: When I was six years old I had a glass of milk and it caused me to throw up. And I haven’t had milk since. And anything that looks vaguely like milk (melted ice cream, vanilla shakes, frothy spit, etc.) makes me gag. Chocolate milk is okay, because it’s not white, but anything milky and white? Ick. Bukkake porn? Gahhhhhhhhgggghghghghghgh. The idea of cocks in mouths is bad enough (ymmv) without the icky, icky money shot. Bleh.
The point of this is … Dear MRAs,
I want nothing to do with your semen. Or anyone’s semen. Or anything that kind of looks like semen. At all. Ever.
Your Pal,
Minty
PS, I would prefer not to trade access to my tube for things or shelter. Of course, your pals also think I shouldn’t be allowed to work since that’s “taking a man’s job,” so I’m not sure what we women are supposed to do. I guess we’re just supposed to die in the streets.
I guess we’re just supposed to die in the streets.
Oh no, you’re supposed to cry in the streets and the government will give you things!
“hot sour cream”
And now I want borscht, maybe with some perogies.
http://www.dishinginthekitchen.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/11/IMG_1539.jpg
“Evolution hasn’t programmed women to reciprocate affection. From a reproductive standpoint, they exist to gobble as much hot sour cream as possible and then propagate the species with the best DNA they can wrangle. Men, on the other hand, are programmed for targeted monogamous affection, the better to protect the female who chooses him as her sperm donor.”
Just a wild guess, but I think this guy failed biology.
Hot sour cream I can live without (cold sour cream on potato wedges is another matter) but really, I’d much rather whipped* cream on a slab of apple and cinnamon pie, like Mr and I had last night. ::goes all faint over food memories::
*does wanting whipped cream make me a serious misandrist?
Just a few months ago, I’d see comments like Dragon Slayer’s and just laugh, because obviously those posts are so outrageous and ridiculous they couldn’t be anything but satire.
Now after reading posts full of people who actually believe this shit, I just want to cry, instead.
Laugh at them instead, Zimmer. It pisses them off.
I definitely haven’t been programmed by evolution to eat cave-sour-cream, unless evolution intended me to precede it with cave-Lactaid.
Don’t cry! Mock instead, it’s far more emotionally satisfying. For example, think for a moment about what a miserable existence DragonBoy must have for him to feel compelled to troll feminist blogs trying to upset people, and how even more miserable his life must be if he believes any of what he’s saying. He’s not scary, he’s pitiful.
Also, if your sperm looks or tastes like sour cream I’d suggest talking to your doctor about that.
Exactly, Cassandra! And think how scared Draggin’troll must be every time he has to walk outside and see those terrible FATTY SACKS OF DOOM pointed at him. They might be loaded! They might shoot him with their deadly Wimmen Cootie Rays!
Imma go point my Manipulation Sacks at the people at the bakery. If it makes any of them sad, I apologize in advance.
Fresh bread, nom nom nom …
It’s Arks, or Arks’ bromantic soulmate. I hope they find each other, so they can spend the rest of their days lovingly crying into their diapers about all women being a series of tubes attached to cel phones and fatty sacks. So romantic.
I cry. And then I light my scented candles, and comfort myself with the time we killed their God: pic.twitter.com/4wyFb4ix (you really need to click to know what I am talking about).