I know. It’s an MRA. It’s nine minutes long. But seriously, just watch it. You won’t regret it.
And, no, it’s not a parody.
If you want to see what the man behind the voice looks like, check out his Gravatar.
After you’ve finished laughing, you can go over and read the catty little thread it inspired over on Antimisandry.com.
Since WordPress now allows us to add polls to our posts I’m adding one right here.
EDITED TO ADD: And now, thanks to serrana, here’s a transcript of the whole bloody thing. Make like a bird, and read it:
I am Agent Orange. I am responsible for the initial collection of data from the now defunct forums of radfemspeak.net. I also recruited most of the team and set forth the vision that would become the Agent Orange Files. I continued promoting the Agent Orange Files during the radfem 2012 fiasco.
I have waited and watched for quite some time the events unfold around me in this broad movement called the MRM. I have seen a sickness strike the heart of what I’ve once considered something grand.
Now, in my capacity as a sort of bird in the sky, I hear rumblings of malcontent throughout the halls of my esteemed brothers. This troubles me as I have not been troubled before. In my life, there has been nothing that has troubled me more. I give of my time, love, and life itself in hopes of creating a society free of misandry, where all humans are judged equally before the laws of nations throughout the world.
Are we still in the wilderness, my brothers, where there are none but our own voices to fall upon our ears? Are we still shouting at the top of our lungs and hearing but a brief echo announcing our solitude? Or have we built a fortress in this cold land, paving paths to others to trade ideas in good faith? Have we not spit in the eyes of our enemies, met them in many skirmishes, and run a sword of truth into the heart of their lies over and over?
We have done much, even to the consternation of those who would use our name in vain for their own petty purposes. We men have refused to back the fight with honeyed words, and bowing to properness and propriety. We have damned the use of all but plain speech in the signing of declarations of war against those who would enslave us. We have spit upon them for good measure as is rightfully deserved.
But the sickness still comes into our fort. It is one borne of temperance of speech that hides half-truths behind the language of our enemies. It poisons the minds of men so they can no longer arm the battlements out of fear of some imagined greater power. It is a false enemy, that never has, and never will have power over the souls of free men.
It has turned brother against brother within the confines of our home. It has distracted us with questions and answers that have no bearing on our lives as free men. We tremble before these questions out of fear of answering to something other than ourselves instead of taking the fight to our enemy. It blinds us to the simplest of answers that we should care not.
We have become complicated, filled with innuendo, brimming with foppishness and base impulse, just like our enemies. We have forgotten the faces of our fathers and grandfathers. We have neglected the pain of our brothers. We have lost sight of our most basic of functions and we are becoming like those we fight in the process.
What are we if not the voice of reason and truth in an otherwise insane world? How did we fall so far as to worry about how possible allies may view us in the future? Do we not stand upon our own merits? Have we not continually crushed our enemies beneath our feet with the weapons of sharp rhetoric and truth spoken with passion and resolve? Do we really care so much about how we are branded that we are willing to sacrifice each other upon the altar of political correctness and forsake our brothers?
Beware of what you say henceforth to each other. You think carefully about our true enemy: identity politics, the politicization of experience. Don’t use dark powers that suggest to us that flowery speech will gather us more bees to make the honey, because that honey is a sour poison that kills us all one by one by one.
Think hard on the cause of suffering among us. Recognize that it is the death of the individual that does this and the removal of accountability and responsibility through the idea that there is collective salvation instead of individual merit, that there is only coercion by their gods instead of the charity of a man, that there is only room for the love of your slavemaster instead of love for yourself.
I have not sat upon a single branch since I have taken flight long ago and I will not do so until the last breath is wrenched from my body through the violence of our enemies or the ravages of age. I have been among you all. I’ve been talking and watching, teaching and learning, healing and tending.
I have been encouraging others to take back their dignity and embark upon a course of action that can best take the fight to our enemy. I hope to help free all men from their self-imposed shackles. My words have rarely been met with derision by those brothers who know me.
Those that have matched wits with me in good faith find me an honorable and competent visionary with the tenacity of a wolverine.
I would ask, but I think it wise to set the example. All of you, lay down your weapons against your brothers in arms immediately, set aside your momentary lapses of reason and come to a table that will soon be provided. Those of you to whom I have whispered secrets before, if you fancy yourself a leader, or a speaker in any capacity, you will come.
There are going to be things to be taught, and revelations that will be made apparent. Those that contribute wisely at the table will walk away with a greater sense of purpose and direction than what we have ever had before.
I promise you magic steel to further our cause. Come, sit beside your brother, though you may have smitten him before. The blood will not be washed away, but regret will at least not hang upon your brow, if you do sit with us.
In the meantime, return to the battlements, and think on this: Remember our enemy that comes from outside our hard-won land. Trust that those not showing up for discourse will have their true colors shown, or are too shamed by their past actions. Remove the names of your brothers from your lips and hold the steel strongly toward the outer walls.
You know where I fly. Send a pigeon or catapult yourself to me, I care not which. I will be waiting impatiently for a response.
“Those of you to whom I have whispered secrets before…”
WHY do MRAs always sound like they are straining to be wizards, or something? The awkward attempts to sound grand are a definite MRA signature.
Why does the MRM make incorrect leaps of logic? Anger? Fear? Stupidity? Some deep reprehensible urging of its soul? The answer cannot easily be found, but some of its abreactions indicate that my life’s work is to rise to the challenge of thwarting its ungrateful plans. For the sake of review, my cause is to stop its encroachments on our heritage. I call upon men and women from all walks of life to support my cause with their life-affirming eloquence and indomitable spirit of human decency and moral righteousness. Only then will the whole world realize that the MRM recently went through a sadism phase in which it tried repeatedly to condition the public to accept violence as normal and desirable. In fact, I’m not convinced that this phase of its has entirely passed. My evidence is that if it turns out that there’s clearly no way to prevent the MRM from uprooting our very heritage and paving the way for its own sullen value system then I guess it’ll be time to throw my cards on the table and call it quits. I’ll just have to give up trying to cast a gimlet eye on the MRM’s opuscula and accept the fact that it is easy to see faults in others. But it takes perseverance to provide an atmosphere of mutual respect, free from caciquism, antipluralism, and all other forms of prejudice and intolerance.
Faster than you can say “anticonfederationist”, the MRM’s tracts will gain a respectable foothold for the MRM’s savage blandishments. An obvious parallel from a slightly different context is that it once tried convincing me that the moon is made of green cheese. Does it think I was born yesterday? I mean, it seems pretty obvious that the MRM indisputably believes that the key to living a long and happy life is to regiment the public mind as much as an army regiments the bodies of its soldiers. What kind of Humpty-Dumpty world is it living in? The complete answer to that question is a long, sad story. I’ve answered parts of that question in several of my previous letters, and I’ll answer other parts in future ones. For now, I’ll just say that at no time in the past did smarmy scalawags shamble through the streets of cities, demanding rights they imagine some supernatural power has bestowed upon them. The MRM’s projects all stem from one, simple, faulty premise, that wrongheaded, unrestrained bourgeoisie are all inherently good, sensitive, creative, and inoffensive.
If the MRM had done its homework, it’d know that I have traveled the length and breadth of this country and talked with the best people. I can therefore assure you that some day, its mean-spirited epigones may ask you why you think it’s a good idea to recall the ideals of compassion, nonviolence, community, and cooperation. If you’re too stunned to answer immediately they’ll answer for you, probably stating that we can trust the MRM not to use savagism as a more destructive form of extremism. You should therefore be prepared to tell these fractious, narrow-minded drazels that I must add my voice to the chorus of those who point out that the emperor has no clothes on. To fully understand that, you need to realize that the MRM follows a dual code of morality—one morality for its fellow uppity creeps and another for the rest of the world. This is why I believe in “live and let live”. The MRM, in contrast, demands not only tolerance and acceptance of its blanket statements but endorsement of them. It’s because of such revolting demands that I myself assert that the tone of its offhand remarks is eerily reminiscent of that of overweening twits of the late 1940s in the sense that according to it, there won’t be any blowback from its discrediting legitimate voices in the antiheroism debate. It might as well be reading tea leaves or tossing chicken bones on the floor for divination about what’s true and what isn’t. Maybe then the MRM would realize that it makes decisions based on random things glamorized by the press and the resulting rantings of mephitic balloon heads (especially the renitent type). End of story. Actually, I should add that now that I’ve been exposed to its artifices I must admit that I don’t completely understand them. Perhaps I need to get out more. Or perhaps it commonly appoints ineffective people to important positions. It then ensures that these people stay in those positions because that makes it easy for it to create a factitious demand for its uncontrollable missives. Finally, to those of you who are faithfully helping me look at our situation realistically and from a viewpoint that takes in the whole picture, let me extend, as always, my deepest gratitude and my most affectionate regards.
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Wow, the compliant generator is surprisingly accurate.
Can I be brimming with foppishness too?
With a name like that, Sir Bodsworth, I’d be bitterly disappointed if you weren’t. Aim high! Aspire to the heights of Lord Foppington himself!
What’s with the guitar background? It sounds like he’d talk about kings and dragons and jump about in jis best magician costume…
Yeah, sorry, haven’t read the comments at all, I just really wanted to say Hi
Hi, TomBcat *waves* I think everyone else is having a lie-i, it’s so quiet on here.
^ lie-in, I mean.
Can I be compared to a marmoset instead of a wolverine, please? I’m sure they’re as tenacious but also very cute.
See, a marmoset being tenacious
http://www.zooborns.com/.a/6a010535647bf3970b010535a16d67970c-800wi
awww! marmosets are awesome.
I hope everyone is feeling great and the chew toys are chewable?
Just visited my sister who’s in her six month of breast-feeding her baby now. Her body has turned into a veritable milk-machine that’s rapidly pulling resources from her thighs and bum in order to pump gallon upon gallon of milk through her boobs (good thing since she has an extraordinarily fast-growing and hungry baby). The end result is that she’s somewhat begun to resemble Pamela Anderson in her Baywatch days. I thought for a little while that right now she’s the ideal woman according to the body fascists among the manboobs David likes to link to, but… there’s probably something wrong with reaching this body shape through breast feeding a baby…? And maybe she’s oppressing all the poor incels by showing off this body in shorts and t-shirts in the hot summer weather we have right now.
It’s so hard not to oppress Da Menz!
Hi, TomBCat, how ya doing? Nice to see you posting! 🙂
Hi Kitteh, I’m doing great! In the middle of moving, almost everything happens just as I want it to, so I can’t complain 🙂
How are you, nice to see you, too! How is Mr K?
Nice job looks-shaming, Futrelle, but I judge my videos based on the content, not Huff’s appearance. Standard feminsit drivel.
Haha Dvarg, don’t be silly. Of *course* there is something wrong with your sister; she’s a woman, isn’t she?
I wrote that and then I started to compile a list of things I’ve read MRAs say about attractive women with children (since unattractive women get a different list of things said about them) and started to get depressed about how long and contradictory it is.
@opium4themasses, I think Drew was being sarcastic but I can understand your confusion…isn’t there a troll named Drew too? Gave me pause and I’m still not 100% sure, but that comment was pretty funny the way I read it (funny in a good way).
Don’t worry Agent Orange, we won’t let the MRM win, so those good women are safe.
I use all sorts of archaism, whence, wherefore, thereby, whither, hence,’tis and I wot not what else. 🙂
But I’m strange.
As to references… Either he’s referring to a toxic defoliant, or to a character in a Tarantino movie: who gets killed by his own side.
So… I just had a thought.
This guy is the most active MRA that I can think of. He’s one of their “elite”…
This is about the best the MRM can come up with… Bless their little cotton socks.
Dear lord I love this guy. And by love I mean he’s unintentionally hilarious.
Even his video game reviews are written in that style.
Everything about this is amazing. Is that his everyday voice, or just the one he uses for delivering grand sermons?
@M Dubz
Magyc: The Gendering cards! Those were good times. I’m enjoying going through all the cards again, especially since I’ve actually learned to play Magic: The Gathering since then. Awesome.
*chortle*
Oh, fella…
On Dawkins. Anybody read his twitter scuffle with Ana Mardoll? (it’s on Shakesville, which I know can be polarizing, but it’s just about the perfect illustration of Dawkins privileged blind spots)
@Amnesia
Your avatar is sooo cute!
Do want.
@Amnesia- One of the people in my grad program is teaching me to play. I have a feeling that she would die of laughter if I were to print them out and bring them to a match 🙂