We Hunted The Mammoth
I‘ve been traveling, so I’m a bit late getting to the whole “Don’t Be That Girl” poster controversy in Edmonton. For those of you who don’t already know all about it: A group called Men’s Rights Edmonton, closely associated with our favorite Men’s Rights hate site A Voice for Men, has been putting up some pretty obnoxious posters parodying an anti-rape poster campaign called “Don’t Be That Guy,” turning the anti-date rape message into one that targets alleged false accusers of rape.
Today, a guest post from Etelka, the blogger behind the hilarious Wretched Refuse blog, which you all should read every day.
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Thanks for letting me sit in, David! As I was telling you, I recently did some rooting around in a unique cranny of pre-manosphere media: sexist vintage cartoons. In the late ’40s and ’50s there were a lot of them published in books like this. (Some of the book covers that follow have been borrowed from the Vintage Sleaze blog here.)
Matt Forrney, the asshole behind the now-defunct In Mala Fide blog, is apparently as desperate for attention as ever. So today I’m going to indulge him by posting this deliberately obnoxious comment of his about women and drinking. [CORRECTION: The post was actually written by someone calling himself “The Captain Power,” who is evidently a whole other different person than Matt Forney, who merely published this post on his blog called Matt Forney.]
If your girlfriend goes out and drinks alcohol, you are most likely getting cheated on.
Women by nature are predetermined in their D.N.A to get pregnant and reproduce, and until they reach menopause they need a constant supply of penis to provide fertility. Your girlfriend might prefer your penis, but once the alcohol kicks in and she is inebriated, your penis is useless. Out of site, out of mind (but full of semen).
In my entire life I have never met a women who was out drinking and didn’t cheat on her boyfriend. …
The few drinking exceptions for women include weddings, work parties, birthday parties with male friends, and suicide attempts.
The reference to suicide attempts at the end is a nice touch.
So the regulars in the Men’s Rights subreddit are discussing the Saatchi/Lawson divorce, as we were yesterday, and, well, it’s going better than expected, in that quite a few of them are actually willing to accept that Saatchi actually abused Lawson and that his demand that she defend him against the accusations of abuse thus don’t really make much sense. I guess that’s what happens when the abuse is literally caught on camera and printed on the front page of every British tabloid.
But not everyone there has responded so, well, rationally. Take this fellow:
Dude, I’m pretty sure the rich and/or weird are subject to the same laws (and moral judgements) as the rest of us. Billionaire art collectors don’t get a free pass to choke their wives in public. Nor is that equivalent to a hypothetical Playboy centerfold cheating on you.
Also, as a point of fact, Saatchi isn’t a billionaire. According to Celebrity Net Worth, he’s worth something on the order of $100 million; the site estimates Lawson to be worth $15 million.
Here’s an interesting, er, historical discussion I found in the Red Pill Women subreddit, in a larger discussion of vagina size:
The more you know!
The entire discussion is, of course, a gold mine of misogynistic nonsense. You can dive right in here, or see some of the more memorable quotes highlighted in this Blue Pill discussion.
I guess I’ll never quite understand this whole alpha thing.
Over on his Alpha Game blog, the reliably awful Vox Day is defending the ALPHA DOG honor of British art collector Charles Saatchi – you know, the guy recently in the news for choking his wife, TV chef Nigella Lawson, in a very public argument – sorry, a “playful tiff”– at a restaurant.
Like a lot of people in the US of A, I am taking a long weekend. Posting may be a little light for a bit. So here’s an open thread for everyone else taking a long weekend. Or not. Use this thread for anything that’s not personal. Like misogyny, politics, kitties, you know the drill. (Though kitties are welcome in all threads, of course.)
I am hoping my long weekend turns out a bit better than that of the people in the Australian movie of that name from 1978, which I keep meaning to see. Apparently their little beach vacation doesn’t go so well, and they are attacked by … nature? At one point, I believe, they face off against an enraged dugong. (No, really.) The movie was recently remade, but apparently the remake wasn’t as good.
Stay tuned for more reviews of movies I haven’t seen and that I’m just giving vague impressions of based on things I’ve heard somewhere.
So it’s true: Feminists have started ruining video games with all their feminism. At least according to some dude called pullupjumper on MGTOWforums who recently wrote a post warning his fellow red pill dudebros about a little game called The Last of Us, which is not only filled with zombies but, get this, girls.
When I bring up the subject of cats on this blog, as I so often do, it’s party because, well, I’m a bit of a fan. But it’s also because I know it confuses and irritates the misogynists who read this blog, inveterate cat-haters all (or almost all). I’ve never quite understood the depth of the animosity the guys in the manosphere seem to have towards cats.
But now one of these cat haters has provided us with a theoretical explanation for his catphobia. In a post with the suggestive title “Limp-Wristed Cat Lovers, Beautiful Dog Lovers,” the guy behind the PUA blog LaidInNYC explains why real men — and real women — hate cats and love dogs instead.
