Leave it to Roosh V’s Return of Kings blog to publish the most reprehensible thing I’ve yet seen related to the Boston Marathon bombing.
In a post with the lovely title “The American Woman Has Hit An All-Time Low,” guest blogger Samseau offers some thoughts – that is to say, wild, unsupported speculation – about the widow of bombing suspect Tamerlan Tsarnaev, and uses that as evidence in a case against American women as a whole, declaring her “a profound marker in the decline of the American woman.”
Samseau bases much of his, er, theorizing on the facts that Tsarnaev was a Muslim immigrant while his widow, Katherine Tsarnaev, nee Russell, was “common American female stock.”
According to most accounts, the two met in a nightclub, and Samseau – his head filled with PUA fever dreams — imagines the scenario:
Although it is unclear how he seduced her, my guess is that he got her with some Muslim game: intimidating gazes, ramrod straight stances, bottle service, congregating with all of the other jacked immigrants in the nightclub with their top two shirt buttons undone, and then inviting girls back to his table to talk.
Most likely they both frequented the same nightclubs when he noticed her, and made a few attempts to get her back to his place before he went for the close. Given that she was an American woman, she put out right away as she did for so many other men in her freshman and sophmore years.
Wouldn’t you hit it? I know I would.
Samseau is somehow able to conjure all this up from the one widely reported fact that the two met in a nightclub.
But it’s what he manages to conjure up from the reports that Tamerlan Tsarnaev physically abused his wife that really takes Samseau’s post over the top. (TRIGGER WARNING in what follows for Samseau’s strange apologia for domestic violence against women.)
Noting that Tsarnaev was arrested for domestic violence against another girlfriend around the time Katherine Russell started dating him, Samseau concludes that “Katherine knew this guy was a piece of shit from the get-go, but most likely willfully ignored it in favor of her lusts.”
Oh, but Samseau is just getting started. He then posits that because
Katherine was a young American woman, she most likely did not see Tsarnaev, or any man she was banging, as anything beyond fun. But because Tsarnaev was a violent man, using force, coercion, and beatings to keep her from straying. Any hint of infidelity resulted in some kind of punishment for Katherine.
Samseau, while registering polite disdain towards Tsarnaev’s alleged violence towards his wife, also seems to regard it as something of a necessity:
I am not surprised that it took the violence of Tsarnaev’s level to keep a young and beautiful girlfriend in Boston. I know that hookup culture well, and girls actively dump and cheat on men whenever they so please. Men are more likely to be pump and dumped than the women are.
Yes, that’s right, he’s arguing that the only way to keep young and beautiful American women from cheating is to beat them. Adding insult to injury — quite literally — Samseau goes on to argue that this is how American women secretly like it.
Thus we reach the disturbing conclusion of this story – Katherine was not a victim, she was not a special case, she was an ordinary American woman who represented her culture in every way, and that is precisely why she betrayed it. She was given everything a woman could want in life, and instead she choose to find something, someone – anyone – who could take it away from her. Unsatisfied with her life of being catered on beck and call, of whim and notion, she was drawn to the first man who would remove it all and place chains around her – even if that man hated the country who raised her. …
And since Katherine was nothing more than an “All-American girl,” it is reasonable to conclude that most American women are exactly like Katherine – unhappy with their spoiled lives who would gladly give it up just for a chance to be enthralled by a powerful man. The women of this country have no more loyalty to the land that raised them, but instead are opportunists looking for a chance to submit in pleasure.
Samseau follows this appalling victim-blaming bullshit with a version of the standard-issue Nice Guy ™ Lament:
Until that opportunity comes, they will hate on all men who try to be anything good towards them, and act out against them – by denying them sex and relationships, by throwing them in jail with trumped up charges, by stealing their money under the pretense of marriage – until they are forced to stop. And it doesn’t take much to stop them – even a welfare bum like Tsarnaev could do it.
Oh, but Samseau isn’t exactly recommending that American men beat their girlfriends – because this would be bad for them. For the men, that is.
Now, I do not think any man should go around beating women just so he can keep them. This is obviously a shitty, destructive way to live that will only cause you more pain and unhappiness in the long run. Any woman that requires beatdowns in order to remain faithful is a garbage woman who will never make you happy. And yet with the extreme shortage of eligible American women, what is a good American man supposed to do?
Samseau ends his post with a suggestion that American men leave the country to some foreign paradise where women aren’t so, well, American. Which is, I suppose, a better alternative than advising men to stick around and beat up women. Be thankful for small mercies, I guess.
Wow, this is the most advice I’ve ever received in such a short time. Thank you so much everyone. It means a lot to me.
I’m afraid I have to head to class now, but I’ll be back. Later!
augochlorella, I can’t remember where I read it (possibly here) but the using-a-phone trick has all sorts of useful applications – a woman who had mental voices she wanted to converse with, but was obviously uncomfortable responding to in public, was able to do so when given the idea of using her phone.
I tried it recently, putting the ear bud thingies in and tucking the end out of sight while walking in Fawkner, so I could talk to Louis out loud. Didn’t work too well, partly ‘cos the damn things wouldn’t stay in and partly ‘cos I’m not just talking to him, I’m responding with smiles or side glances, which doesn’t go with a phone conversation.
Mostly I think “Stuff it, I’m not blathering half as loud as those phone conversers anyway.” In the extremely unlikely event that anyone said anything, I could tell ’em “Hey, it’s not my problem if you can’t see who I’m talking to. Have you considered getting your second sight checked? It seems to be on the fritz.” 🙂
Kittehserf, I’m sorry it didn’t end up working well for you. But yeah, if anyone gives you crap for talking to your husband, then they are poopy heads and you should respond to them as such.
Haven’t you heard? We are nothing more than “a bag of cats”…
En-sigma Daniel • 10 hours ago
You cannot lead from the bottom of the pedestal. Christian men need to realize that. And God has put us as leaders As much as you can respect the “bag of cats” that is woman, you can respect them, but don’t make them out to be more than the “weaker sex.”
From:
http://www.returnofkings.com/9782/why-christian-men-dont-deserve-virgins
I’d love to say “You’re a poopy head!” loudly, in public.
*gigglefit*
Yay for manboobzers! Such good ideas. I’m stealing the phone one just because I like to talk out loud to myself sometimes on my walk to and from work. (Though Kittehserf’s “Your second sight seems to be on the fritz” line would work too.)
I dropped my kitties off where they’re staying while I’m on vacation and THEY. ARE. NOT. HAPPY. WITH. ME and now I’m home with no kitties. 🙁
So here’s Henri:
One interesting thing about that clip on Helen and Rachel is the sort of trans 600 level of discourse on gender brought up but largely not expanded on – when the man at the end starts talking about how Rachel is continuing to hurt herself by occasionally playing out aspects of her historical masculinity, which doesn’t seem to be Rachel’s experience (at least then), and the whole issue of “where does gender live” and “what does dysmorphia mean” with the 600 level nuances of it being much more individualized than uniform – even within cis gendered people.
I wish there was less knee-jerk defensiveness around gender in general, because the conversation about where gender lies, how different dysmorphias operate for individuals, what patterns – if any – can we identify, etc… seems really fascinating to me. I always end up navel gazing about my experience of being cis gendered and female, and how much I self-identify that way (also with other aspects of my appearance – like it is critical that I Am A Blond even though most people see me as having brown hair; ash blond is still blond, assholes). What we identify with, and how, and how it interacts with our physical appearance and how other people treat us is so complicated and fascinating.
And I will be completely kitty-less until next week, when I get to my sister’s. She doesn’t have cat, but her neighbors have several very friendly outdoor kitties.
Kitty withdrawal — it’s a thing.
When I visit my mom, I go into serious kitty withdrawl.
“Kitty withdrawal — it’s a thing.”
“I go into serious kitty withdrawl.”
Cloudiah and Deoridhe, the Manosphere En Sigma Daniel says you’re withdrawling from youselves;
En-sigma Daniel • 10 hours ago
You cannot lead from the bottom of the pedestal. Christian men need to realize that. And God has put us as leaders As much as you can respect the “bag of cats” that is woman, you can respect them, but don’t make them out to be more than the “weaker sex.”
From:
http://www.returnofkings.com/9782/why-christian-men-dont-deserve-virgins
Kitty withdrawal is a thing. A very serious thing. College is great but I miss my cat at home so much.
My college did this amazing thing today where they had foster kittens in the library for us to hold. It’s to help de-stress us students during finals week. Tomorrow they’ll have puppies.
Bag of Cats: saw that the first time you posted it.
But did Cloudiah and Deoridhe?
Better “bag of cats” than “sack of shit”.
This is what happens when virulent misogyny and racism meet confirmation bias.
The most entertaining thing about Roosh is the name of his blog. It’s just so comically deluded.
BOC, if they did, they’ll answer you.
Well, that article was uniquely horrible in the way only Roosh and his followers can be. It doesn’t matter how much you think a group of people sucks (or even if they do suck). If you write something like this, or agree with it, you suck more. I really don’t have anything else to say other than that.
Oh, and Aaliyah, I wish you the best with your situation. I can only imagine how difficult it must be.
Kitty withdrawal/deprivation is a horrible thing. When Mum and I stayed in London years ago, we used to detour to a street that had All The Kitties on our way to do shopping. (Tachbrook St, Pimlico, for anyone who knows the area.)
OT Louis has written (well, dictated) a blog post! While petting a kitty! Talents, he haz them.
http://vignettesacrosstheveil.wordpress.com/2013/05/01/milords-musings/
@A Bag of Cats:
That is literally the most confusing article on any topic I have ever, ever read.
Nothing makes sense any more.
I know they are writing in English, and I understand the individual words they use but they string them together in sentences that seem to crash against any form of understanding I have of the way the world works and the way words work and they way meaning is transferred from one being to another.
Does not compute.
Just… terror. Incomprehension. The wailing, gnashing sounds of a thousand thousand spoons banging together. Cats and dogs living together. Rain of frogs. Fnord.
The comments are just as bloody confusing. Nominally engaged in some sort of communication but it’s like they’re speaking in codes, or using paths of logic to eldritch, arcane and obscene that I find the theocratic underpinnings to be absolutely mindboggling. I don’t use the word “Esoteric” a lot, but that is esoteric.
I mean, what the hell is the point there? What path of thought am I supposed to glean from this incomprehensible blathering? That someone slept with someone else, okay, right, and then he bragged about it, okay, and a third and fourth person commented and this is his sly, on the low, snap at the guy who commented?
Is that it? What?
Or is it an enumeration of the flaws in attempting to be one thing while saying another and believing a third and actively living in a community that practices a fourth and wanting to become a fifth thing altogether? Because if that’s the rundown, if that’s what it really is saying, then I can say the same thing in far, far fewer words:
“Your narcissistic impulse to want the world to conform to your beliefs does nothing but aggravate you when it does not”
Is it a sly show of one up manship about how you can get a christian virgin and how you can sleep with christian virgins and how that’s a great thing? Okay, uh, setting aside how fucking confusing it is to want christian virgins and hating sluts but banging on about banging virgins and see how confusing that gets, then, what?
And the comments. The comments are just endless quotes of scripture from multiple sources and people saying “Beta” and “gamma” and “cats” and “crazy” as if the words mean something without a damn context.
THIS IS HELL. I AM LOOKING AT HELL. THIS IS THE ABYSS I HAVE STARED INTO FOR TOO LONG AND SO GOD HELP ME, I CANNOT UNSTARE.
I’ve acid flashbacks with more narrative coherence than this! I’ve stayed awake for 50 hours as part of obsence, idiotic biology experiments and at the end had shots of tequila and the notes I wrote to myself as I stared up into an unceasing sky after days and days of not sleeping and drunk made more sense, makes more sense, than this. That. Argh.
I can’t even formulate a sentence without just going aaaargh.
Arrrgh.
THIS? This at least makes sense and has a point. Women are weak and men are manly and take the red pill to level up and gain more pussy or something.
How about this?
Oaky, dogmatic slumber, nice, evocative phrase, good on you there mr. thesarus. Walking along the knifes edge, men tread righteously, deliver us from the state of nature, and civitas and Frank and wolves and eventually the world will no longer be fallen and you can understand that you’re really doing the Devil’s work but every day spent doing that will mean that people one day will no longer do so?
No no no no hahaha, that’s weaksauce. How about *this*:
Looking at a stars and seeing yourself is not a sign of a feminized soul, its a sign of as stunted perspective and a world view so bound up in your tight, little neurosis that you cannot fathom why people run screaming from you when you start talking about that on time you almost made it, but that’s not what he’s really saying, he’s going on about gods and men and women and I know, I just know, I can’t read it and it’s not there, but look at it, look at it, women are evil and their souls corrupt and they need to be controlled, that’s the gist, that’s the slithering parochialism curled like a snake behind the mentions of the names of God.
But you know what? You know *what*? There is and island in there of sanity and reason. There is a post that makes sense, has a point and manages to convey it.
Mark fucking Minter has a post in there and it’s my goddamit island of sanity amidst a sea I cannot understand, the life straw I can grasp for when everything else just utterly, utterly fails to connect to any part of the world I normally engage in.
Any other way of dealing with women, floods your body with cortisol. Stay away from women in a sexual way for a while, and I mean a while, like a year. Then get back around them in sexual and relationship situations and you can feel it surging back into your body. Women bring the stress into your life, just by showing up, just by being women. You can feel your arms numb a little bit from it. You start having trouble falling asleep as quickly. Erections don’t pop up so easy.
At least this is just the same old “Women are actually the Ebola virus” that occasionally gets mentioned – and as a fyi, if your heart goes a little numb and you feel a sense of shock, you’re having a heart attack, which is what I’m about to have facing the systematic denial of sense, reason and any kind of connection with reality however tenuously attached to some sort of structured belief system – yet that, that just makes sense, it’s the buried old talking point so bloody fine.
This is a long bit:
Those real people. Having a real conversation, a conversation has ostensibly been copied and is being written about in this heinous crime against literature and humanity.
Real people. With lives and emotions and thoughts and joys and fears. Are talking like that. Someone says something and one of the responses, out of the myriad millions of ways one can phrase anything, is “If the body of Christ has a vagina, it’s you, bub”.
The fucking response to “He’s not a fag” is, by the person who is not a fag, “Go get me a sandwich, you always forget the pickles”.
Sometimes? In my nightmares? In the fevered dreams conjured up by whatever demon rattles around in my skull and passes for a sentience, I have these weird, elongated discussions with figures wearing shadows for skin and eyes the size of moons but teeth, teeth that clatter with the breath like wind and breathing like thunder and in those dreams, the ones I wake up from chilled to my core, what transpires makes more sense than this, is a communication that at least has a sense to it, some meaning, a bit of give and take. Fractured notions of infinites spinning in the darkness behind my eyelids and that? That I can take. This is just absurd.
I have seen Fox News segments that had more open, constructive dialogue than this exchange.
What the actual, snappery, doo wthittleylda, darat?
“I’m walking down the street”
“This house is full of eels!”
“I can’t feel my eyeballs!”
It’s like they’re shopping for meat. And that’s fine, sure, you have your fetisch and you happen to love virgins, that’s great, okay, whatever, but what the malarky is the sense of all this? A fortunate encounter with a virgin, all right, so she’s not a virgin any more, fine, then, so does that mean you’ve ruined it for someone else or what am I supposed to understand here?
And then you go on to slam about it and Dalrock and you post on the Internet and the comments are scripture and I can’t feel my eyeballs and enough.
Enough.
Enough.
—
That’s it. I’m blocking Return of Kings on my browser. And I’m going to go empty a bottle of gin now.
Where did my comment go? This avatar thing is too complicated…
Anyone feel like taking on the long-ish comment a couple of pages back on how Western women suck? On second thoughts, better not, it was just standard, tedious stuff.
In all seriousness, why are MRAs such bad writers? If it was just a handful of them I’d write it off, but it’s all of them, every single one.
Dogmatic slumber? Is that when dogs automatically snooze in front of the fire after a meal?
I think dogmatic slumber is when the dog from Asterix the Gaul takes a nap.
Perfect! I’d forgotten about Dogmatix. 😀
When your logic and grasp of reality is twisted, it takes your language with it. 8(