So you all remember The Red Pill subreddit, that wretched hive of scum and misogyny I wrote about the other day, and the other other day, and the other other other day before that. Well, now something even more horrible has sprouted up on Reddit, like genital warts after a night “raw dogging it” with a PUA douchebag.
It’s a new subreddit from the Red Pill masterminds called Red Pill Women.
But wait, you say, isn’t The Red Pill subreddit all about manipulating and exploiting women sexually and generally just being misogynistic douchebags generally? What on earth might a Red Pill subreddit have to offer women?
In a 1400-word “welcome” statement, RedPillSchool, the subreddit’s top mod, tries to explain why the ladies might want to join up.
He starts by laying down some biotruths, by which I mean that he repeats the standard-issue manosphere fairy tale about men and women and the cock carousel:
A man’s biological imperative is to procreate. Some men (the few– less than 20%) are very attractive to women and may take on as many partners as he can. There’s no telling if he’ll stick around to help with the young, but rest assured he’ll make the rounds. Other men aren’t as attractive are happy being providers. This is a majority of men. They want to settle down, have a family. Their biological impulses, believe it or not, is to make a woman happy. It’s both a feature, and as we’ve discovered on /r/theredpill, one of man’s biggest weaknesses.
A woman’s biological imperative is to procreate. (We’re not so different!) Her strategy is slightly different. She wants provisions, but she also wants the highest quality DNA to procreate with. Unfortunately for guys, this sometimes ends up with women having sex with one of the attractive but noncommittal men, and then finding another man to do the provisioning. Her strategy is two-fold: have sex with the highest value males as possible, and get commitment from the highest value males possible. If possible: get both in one man. If not, get both from separate men.
As for those accusastions of misogyny, RedPillSchool responds with a big “nuh-uh!”
It isn’t. The red pill is about accepting reality for what it is. As you’ve seen above, men and women’s mating strategies are at odds with each other, and a lot of men on /r/theredpill are a bit angry. But they’re not angry because this is reality. They’re angry because they spent a majority of their lives being told that this isn’t reality, and putting them at a severe disadvantage.
Oh, so they don’t hate women. They’re just jusifiably angry at them.
Once we embrace what reality is, we find our relationships to be more successful, more fulfilling, and a better deal for ourselves and for the women we’ve dated. We’ve concentrated on what women like, and by doing so have been able to make ourselves into mates that women would want.
Yeah, women love dudes who spend all their time online talking about how awful women are.
So what do Red Pill men want women to do for them?
Sorry, I meant, what can the Red Pill Women subreddit help women to do that will be just fantastic for them, the women?
Well, the past half a century was the march of feminism telling women that they don’t need to do anything for men, that they are perfect and don’t need to change, that change or compromise is oppression, and that you can have it all. A career, kids, family, education- it’s all yours.
The problem is that our culture ended up self indulgent with no long-term goals, and thusly- no long term happiness (at least where family is concerned).
With divorce rates skyrocketing, single motherhood increasing, never-marrieds piling up, and hook-up culture and one night stands at an all time high, people are reaching 35 going.. where’s my family?
Huh. Taking the Red Pill must really do something to your eyesight, because the divorce rate has been heading downwards for the last thirty years.
But let’s just ignore the false premise here and continue on:
Women, you have the ability to find happiness when you embrace the reality of your biological urges and impulses. You have the ability and the requirement to become the optimal mate for your optimal mate. Do not believe the hype that you are good enough how you are, and realize that in life, the only things worth having take work.
Oh dear. So what sort of “self-improvement” advice will the subreddit contain? Apparently, a lot of misogynistic insults. Oh, sorry, harsh truths.
This forum will embarce truth first and foremost, sensitivity be damned. While I encourage people to remain positive towards each other, plain insults are discouraged, I understand that sometimes the truth will seem like an insult.
Ok, so who exactly is qualified to give advice on RedPill women?
RedPillWomen is not the place for men to show up and spout nonsense.
Ok, but you’re a man, and you’re spouting nonsense.
We have an unofficial rule on /r/theredpill that basically amounts to: don’t listen to women about sexual strategy. It’s not that we don’t like women, it’s that women really have a hard time seeing past what they like to understand men have a different palate.
Um, what? Why would this mean that you shouldn’t listen to women?
The same goes for men, perhaps even worse so. Men, being the less discriminating gender, are more-or-less programmed to find women sexy.. no matter what. And when a woman says, “I like to eat pie with my fingers” you’ll have sex-thirsty guys line up out the door willing to say anything for female validation. “I love women who eat with their fingers.”
Wait, did I wander into the wrong subreddit? Why are we talking about pie?
Men will say anything for female validation. Men are utterly and completely blind when it comes to what attracts them. They are clueless. They are conditioned by society to tell you that things we’re supposed to find attractive are attractive. And why not? In our minds, if I find you attractive, and you exhibit certain qualities, it’s hard to isolate which qualities were the ones we found attractive.
Huh?
But you’re not looking for low-hanging-fruit.
Now we’re on to fruit? Was RedPillSchool just really hungry when he wrote this?
You could just walk into a bar with no clothes if you want to make men drool. But instead, you want to make yourself into the woman who will snag the highest value mate. You want to redefine high value to mean longest-term happiness. And you don’t want just any old schmo to drool over you. So don’t take schmo’s advice. It’s terrible.
RedPillSchool, I served with Joe Schmo. I knew Joe Schmo. Joe Schmo was a friend of mine. RedPillSchool, you’re no Joe Schmo.
Welcome! I hope this will be a productive place to discuss sexual strategy for women.
I can’t wait to see what sort of “sexual strategy” these guys advocate. Maybe we can assemble a list of some of the best suggestions.
Meanwhile, that white supremacist dude who thinks that women who hate the Red Pill dudes are all secretly into them — that guy I wrote about the other day — is already excited to see a subreddit of Red Pill “cheerleaders.”
It looks like TheRedPill Mannerbund, which at first only attracted TheBluePill hecklers, has now attracted some cheerleaders.
Perhaps a sorority forming next to the fraternity.
Notice TheRedPill kept the women out (at least female centric opinion, since this is virtual space) and now we see the reaction: submit and service.
My opponents of course could only interpret “service” as sexual, which is was partly but not completely. The women are no longer heckling the mannerbund, but have adopted the mannerbund’s agenda – they have become cheerleaders.
What he doesn’t know is that one of those cheerleaders is me — I just subscribed. Let’s see if they notice and ban me.
The Blue Pill squad is on the case as well, with a bunch of posts devoted to this exciting new development.
I know, that was our Great Moment of Shame for ever. 😀
Closest I can think of to those sort of moments nature-wise was being at Yosemite and seeing the redwoods. Words fail.
Otherwise, prolly seeing Mr K’s portrait in the Louvre for the first time (after a lot of disappointments on that trip and the feeling of being further from him than ever – this was long before we were in contact). The moment I turned the corner and saw him still lives with me.
So many moments, little ones (stooping to grab wild strawberries while on a “combat” patrol in Ukraine, and discovering the guy two ahead of me had already gotten those), Shooting stars, seen through Night Vision Goggles: That no one else could see [or, on a different night, tracers rising up to let me know of someone else’s private hell).
The dawn in Scotland, or sharing cocoa in a bothy.
The empty streets of SoHo (NYC) after Sandy, or the quiet comfort of a gentle earthquake the morning after the “June Birthdays” party the year I turned 20.
The world is huge, and I want to see all of it.
Guys, I love you all. “Oh the horrible things I’ve seen” has morphed into “oh the awesome things I’ve seen”. And frankly, this little community has got to make that list!
Oh and add nearly getting dive bombed by a falcon and her offspring to my list. Terrifying and awesome. Awesome at 50′, terrifying at 5′.
Lying on the softest grass ever in Ireland and feeling the world turn around you.
Sunrise from the top of a highrise building in Hong Kong (HK has some amazing architecture).
Birth.
Playing with my dog who was raised by cats and uses her paws to move balls around.
Total silence during camping trips in the Rocky Mountains, watching the stars.
Watching meteor showers through a telescope out in said mountains.
Climbing pyramids and waterfalls in South America.
Diving with dolphins in NZ.
Carnival in Venice.
Louvre in Paris – I’m all about Eros and Psyche.
Climbing to the top of the tallest church in Germany and seeing the freakin’ Swiss Alps from the steeple.
I’ve got a long list… I want to experience everything… The world is an amazing place.
Seconded!
Little moments – seeing Mr do handstands in the park, or use his fedora as a frisbee.
Seeing Katie, years ago, catch a bird on the wing (sorry for the bird but mygod she was an awesome hunter back then).
Being allowed into the storage area of the National Portrait Gallery in London when the Tudor-Stuart sections were closed for renovation, and having eyeball to eyeball looks at the paintings we wanted to see.
Being able to handle a coin from Mr K’s reign, brought out by the numismatics curator at Museum Victoria.
Getting to climb over the railings at the Church of the Sorbonne* and touch M de Richelieu’s tomb sculpture.
*It’s not used as a church now; there was a student art exhibition on when we were there. Climbing the railings was the security guy’s idea!
Oh, and asking Mr K a few years back, right when we were first in contact, if he had any pet names for me; then ten minutes later, rounding a corner to a street I hadn’t visited before, and seeing a shop called Louis and Lady.
Watching “Les Miserables” and figuring out where the roof Javert was striding was; from memories of Paris last April, and where the building had to be, based on where Notre Dame was; and then sharing that with my beloved, who had done the same, from a different landmark (she didn’t climb Notre Dame, so she didn’t see Paris from that vantage).
Holding a piece of history, hot from the ground, with the dirt still on it.
I’ve been lucky enough to go lots of place, and do amazing things: and many of them were for work, so I got paid.
Oh, man … the last person to hold that shilling …
yeah…. And I’m a soldier, It was too cool for words. I’ll bet it’s either catalogued and in a drawer, or under glass.
Regarding passing privilege…. My genderqueer afk friend I mentioned above is pretty out, often debates and writes about what it’s like being genderqueer non-anonymously and so on, but even zie can’t be bothered with coming out over and over again every single time someone assumes zie’s a man (combination of having a wife and kids, having big muscles from bodybuilding and also a masculine style and a fairly masculine-looking face – people tend to assume “man” from all that). I think it’s fairly human and natural that if people constantly assign you a certain gender, it’s just too much of a bother to correct them all the time.
Regarding gender-neutral pronouns: I think it’s a bit confusing in English that there are so many options, but I’ve gotten used to using “zie” and “zir” now, so I go with that. In Swedish there’s only one option, which is “hen”. It’s “han” for he, “hon” for she and “hen” for zie. There’s actually been a lot of debate during the last years around this new addition to the Swedish language. It quickly gained popularity among large groups of people as a replacement for the clumsier “he or she” in texts where you write about people in general. For instance, I’m a member of the kennel club, and they’ve begun to use it in their magazine when they write in general about what rules “the dog breeder” generally speaking must follow or the situation for “the hunter”. So it’s become pretty common far outside circles that are particularly interested in gender issues. However, lots of people feel transphobically uncomfortable with this, and one of the most common objections people launch against “hen” is that in English it means chicken. And every smart person is like SO WHAT? There are several words that mean one thing in Swedish and another thing in English or some other language. “Barn” for instance, means “child” in Swedish but is a farm building in English. Nobody has ever suggested that we stop using “barn” for that reason. But yeah, some people just panic upon hearing a gender neutral pronoun…
Regarding gender identity in general: Ozy’s taken down zir blog now, but zie had a post I found pretty good on being “cis by default” – people who might not be that cis after all, but if you’re not very much trans you’re sort of dropped into the cis category by default. I recognize myself in that quite a lot. If I could choose, from scratch, what kind of body to have, I’d choose a taller, more muscular body without boobs, and possibly with a dick too. If I could choose, from scratch and without any fuzz, what people were gonna call me, I’d go for a masculine or gender neutral pronoun. The reasons I still call myself a woman:
1. After all, I don’t have that strong a gender identity at all. I’m okay with being called a woman and referred to as “she”. I’ve gotten used to it over the years, it’s no big deal to me.
2. And it’s much easier in feminist discussions when referring to one’s own experiences of being treated the way people tend to treat women to simply call oneself a woman.
3. Most important: I already fight a constant battle against prejudices about the mentally ill. I have various schizophrenia symptoms, and that’s probably the most stigmatized mental illness, what people think of if someone says “insane”. I just feel like I can’t take a trans fight on top of that.
So I’m pretty much a “cis by default” rather than a full-blown cis who feels that yes, I am a woman.
Dvärghundspossen — oddly, or not that oddly, I realized not long ago that I am *fully* out online, and now even my annoying meds-psych knows (and that’s its own clusterfuck of stupid!). Yet with family // people I only know in person, I don’t bother.
1: yeah, I’m used to it and have been known since I was a wee one as not giving a shit about gender roles, so it’d be a fuss that isn’t worth it
2: your three, almost. Cuz bipolar isn’t seen as that much “saner”, plus, even my fucking psych asked if it was cuz of my fucked up childhood.
Your 2…yeah, it gets awkward when I really want to chime in on a gendered discussion but really don’t want to acknowledge my anatomy besides complaining about it. Which brings me to…yeah, I’d change…things. As it stands my cursed anatomy only lets me fuck with gender roles, not pass as anything besides my anatomically assumed gender (which is now going to be how I refer to what I was assigned at birth…)
Tangentially, what I was assigned at birth? My father and my mother’s OB/GYN where fishing buddies, I got “it’s a keeper!” (To be fair, this was after 30 hours of an induced labor, and after he’d pried me loose with forceps, I can totally see where he was coming from with that remark, and well…I’m a fishie!)
My mother still uses that labor against me, a few days ago I yelled at her to wait for me and she quipped that she waited three weeks for me!
“Cuz bipolar isn’t seen as that much “saner”, plus, even my fucking psych asked if it was cuz of my fucked up childhood.”
Buh … fucking Dr Google knows more than this psych! Where’d zie get zir degree, from a cornflake packet?
You were assigned FISH at birth? That’s it, you’re an agent of the Aquarinati, I knew it! :O
Dr google knows more about most trans* things than medicine, unfortunately. And she teaches a nursing class.
Faaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrkkkkkkk …
@Argenti: I think people who don’t feel completely at home in their assigned gender are fairly common in feminist spaces, since if you feel that way, you’re bound to start thinking about gender issues, and that usually leads to feminism.
I read a blog post by someone who’s name I can’t remember commenting on Ozy’s “cis by default” idea, that not having a particularly strong gender identity one way or the other just is cis. Because cis is the norm, being cis means not having particularly strong feelings about one’s gender identity. But I don’t think that can be really true. Outside of feminist spaces, there are loads of people who at least seem to identify really strongly with being men or being women. Like, if someone were to mistake them for another gender that’s a big deal for them, they feel it’s super-insulting, not something they shrug off the way they might shrug off if trivial mistakes (such as if someone would assume that, say, they were from a different part of the country than they’re actually from).
Yeah, wow, I am extremely uncomfortable with the either that one has to strongly ID with their non-assigned gender to be trans*, I mean, I tend to use not-cis myself since I by and large avoid transphobia, but yeah, just no to that. My brain is too tired to form proper thoughts, so I’ll let Natalie Reed handle this one.
Dvarghundspossen – couldn’t it work both ways? I’m definitely cis but it’s not “I”m a WOMAN!!!” sort of thing, it’s simply what I am, same as, I dunno, being five-four instead of five-five. It’s not something I’d think about if being a woman (or perceived as such) didn’t have a load of issues around it (sexism, I mean). Not sure I’m putting that too clearly, it’s 10pm and I’m really tired.
That’s a good point, Kitten. So we ought to separate
– Having a rather weak feeling that the gender the world assigned to you isn’t precisely right, but choosing to identify as cis anyway for various reasons, and
– One’s gender isn’t an issue at all.
Chatting with a security guard at a flower festival late at night, before reading a book in the only still standing pavallion, flowers from all over the world all around me.
Giving tiny kids hugs while dressed as a troll.
In the same vein, teaching people archery and watching them go from fumbling and insecure to hitting a target in the space of 5-10 minutes, and the sheer bloody *smile* they walk away with, having realized they can, in fact, learn things quickly and shock of shocks, they have hand to eye cordination!
Buying a slice of melon at 3:30 in the morning in Istanbul (I don’t know why the street salesman was there at 3:30, but the melons were great) and eating it with a friend while standing in the middle of a fountain. I think maybe that memory is shaded by the massive crush I happened to have, but still.
Good times all around! Sometimes the lurking terror of depression and ennui strike, but then you remember all the other stuff…
(Also, to the earlier thread question: laughing at the trolls help. But sometimes, you need a break because the hate is just so… atrociously funny. The show must go on. I suggest music and rhymes)
I stood on a peak of les Vosges and looked clear across France and saw Mont Blanc.
The quiet darkness of N D de Paris, more than the electric light could illuminate, broken only by the sunlight through the stained glass. All these other Northern Europe churches, more than I can count.
Singing negro spirituals in a Lutheran church in Bern, Switzerland. Has the band teacher got permission?
The undersides of all the Paris bridges, from a riverboat.
Earlier than that, the lights of the ships at a US Navy port outside Williamsburg, Virginia.
Thomas Jefferson’s bedroom.
The steep, wooded sides of the Blue Ridge Mountains. The way the slope leapt out from under your feet as soon as the road ended. The little rest areas in every wide spot in the road. Then getting lost trying to get to Charlottesville, Virginia.
The peeping of the prairie dogs in a Nebraska national park.
Wall, South Dakota.
Mount Rushmore and Crazy Horse.
Competing in a marching band show in the driving snow and the mud. Someone’s plume has come off their helmet. Ignore it.
Watching the guy who tied for top of my class make what must have been an 80 yard dash for a touchdown.
Everyone who’s been to Notre Dame de Paris – d’you remember the statues near the altar: the Pieta group and the two kings? The king on the right is Sir. 🙂
Erm… I gotta admit I don’t remember the statues near the altar. I remember the three statues above the front doors what got beheaded because the Revolutionaries thought they were French kings, not the Old Testament kings they really are (I think someone found their heads in a tip in the 20th Century, but I’m too lazy to look it up).
For some reason the statue of Jeanne d’Arc inside surprised me.
Louis XIII, I presume.
That’s the one! Not the best statue of him, but it’s nice to see it there. 🙂