Today, some comedy, in the form of an 8 minute excerpt from what was apparently an hour-and-a-half “debate” between John “The Other” Hembling, noted Men’s Human Rights Activist from A Voice For Human Men, and some dude from Manhood Academy, a Men’s Rights site that’s actually a teensy bit more obnoxious than AVFM, although in a much less interesting way.
It’s NSFW, unless you’re wearing headphones, due to salty language and near-constant anti-woman slurs.
In case you haven’t listened to enough of JohnTheOther to instantly recognize his irritating voice, he is — uncharacteristically — the quieter of the two, er, debaters here, and a little bit on the defensive.
Thanks to the intrepid work of new commenter Thal, we now have a transcript!
MA: You were threatening to rage-quit like a—
JTO: So here’s my an—here we go, ready? Ready for the answer?
MA: You were threatening to rage quit like a timid little b*tch.
JTO: Stick something in your mouth so you can hear with your ears, not your tongue.
MA: YOOOOUUUU, were threatening, to rage quit like a timid little b*tch to control the conversation, you were saying, [baby-talk] “If you say this one more time, I’m rage quitting outta here!” And look at you.
JTO: Oh, god—how f*cking old are you.
MA: Like a timid little b*tch, like a little girl—
JTO: No no, Let’s just pause, come on—
MA: You can’t—you can’t even keep your own word.
JTO: How old are you? *How old are you?*
MA: –you can’t even keep your own word. You notice you said, if I called you a b*tch one more time, you’d leave?
JTO: Yeah, because I wasn’t going to let you, I wasn’t going to let you—
MA: And, now you, now you didn’t. So you make empty threats so, you admit you’re a liar?
JTO: No, I was—
MA: You admit you’re a liar, basically?
JTO: …Kid, is this entire thing—
MA: Kid?! Yes Dad? Yes Daddy?
JTO: –Just to wind me up?
MA: What do you have to tell me Daddy?
JTO: And then when I’m finally fed up with you I leave—
MA: What Daddy?
JTO: –and then you go “Oh, rage quit?”
MA: What Daddy?
JTO: Is that the whole point of this whole f*cking exercise?
MA: What Daddy? Say that again Daddy?
JTO: …Kid! *Kid!*
MA: Yes, Daddy?
JTO: That’s what I called you!
MA: Yes Daddy?
JTO: Would you prefer I call you *toddler?* Child?
MA: Grandpa! Are we getting older now? Grandpa, what are you doing? Grandpa, check your pacemaker, it sounds like you’re getting angry.
JTO: Oh my pacemaker’s fine, son.
MA: Yeah? Grandpa, it sounds like your pacemaker’s getting angry.
JTO: Listen, listen, listen toddler, you little child…
MA: Grandpa, check your Depends undergarments. Check your Depends undergarments. Are they okay?
JTO: Would you like to go back to actually—
MA: Are they dry?
JTO: –letting me answer your question?
MA: Grandpa! Grandpa, are your Depends undergarments dry or not?
JTO: (long-suffering sigh)
MA: Don’t cry like a little b*tch! You act like a little b*tch and then you get frustrated! You’re frustrating yourself!
JTO: (derisive laugh)
MA: Go back to your Zen calm!
JTO: You’re—you’re so—
MA: Remember how you were Zen calm? Remember how you were lecturing everyone on how calm you were?
JTO: The longer this goes on—
MA: Remember—(misty exalted voice) ohhhhh! I’m Zen calm!
JTO: The longer this goes on, the more transparent you become!
MA: Uh—what a coincidence! It’s almost like we’re talking to a mirror here! Oh my god!
JTO: So? Do you want me to try to answer the question again, or are you gonna yap again?
MA: Well you want me to state the question clearly so you can give a clear answer?
JTO: No, I know what the question is!
MA: *Oh,* now you know, before you were just ignoring it!
JTO: …Well, I was trying to answer, and you were yapping over top of me—
MA: No you weren’t! You were acting like a scared little b*tch, ignoring it!
JTO: (long suffering) Oh, god. You’re so tedious.
MA: Ohhhh, god. Oh my gawd, you’re so put out. Oh, my gawwwwd, broooo. I have to give a logical answer–?
JTO: Tedious. Tedious.
MA: I have to give a—
JTO: Teeeedious.
MA: Yeah. I’m talking to a *f*cking moron,* and you want to talk about *tedious?* You’re a f*cking idiot! I mean, I have students that are brighter than you!
JTO: …Well, uh, good for them, I’m not sure why they’d pay attention to you.
MA: Yeah, because I make sense!
JTO: So, the question that you asked—
MA: You know why they pay attention to me?
JTO: The question, that you asked—
MA: Because I’m *specific,* like an adult, and I make sense—
JTO: The question—
MA: And you’re a hypocritical, cowardly little b*tch, and I keep proving it to them! That’s why they pay attention to me! That’s why we hold these debates!
JTO: Look. This isn’t a debate!
MA: Public scrutiny!
JTO: (possibly a snort?) This isn’t a debate, sunshine!
MA: Oh it—it’s not, pumpkin?
JTO: No, no it’s not, sweetie-pie! This is [unintelligible]—
MA: Why not marshmallow? Tell me why marshmallow!
JTO: (almost flirtatiously) I’ll try. Are you gonna let me?
MA: Maybe buttercup, are you gonna keep cutting me off?! You—you notice again—you keep cutting me off–
JTO: I’ll tell you what—
MA: You keep cutting me off—
JTO: Hold up your hand—
MA: And *I’m* not crying!
JTO: When you’re ready for me to—
MA: I’m not crying like a little b*tch like you are
JTO: Go like this—
MA: (high voice) Ohhhh, you keep cutting me off!
JTO: Go like this when you’re ready for me to answer the question.
MA: Listen. Listen, you cowardly little b*tch. You notice how *you* keep crying about me cutting you off but I don’t cry when you cut me off? You notice that?
JTO: Well you, you *are* crying, I mean…
MA: Oh I am? I didn’t realize.
JTO: Get your camera up higher, so that you’re not hiding your eyes.
MA: What?! I’m sitting *forward!*
JTO: Well, lean back, or tilt your camera back, cause all I see is from—
MA: You don’t get to tell me what to do, you scared little b*tch!
JTO: This is what I see. This is what I see.
MA: Guess what? Guess what?
JTO: That’s what you look like right now.
MA: You’re a scared little *b*tch,* and you don’t answer my challenges, so what the *fuck* does it matter what position I sit in?
JTO: Well I do, it’s just that you can’t hear the answer because you won’t stop talking.
MA: Oh I “can’t hear the answer?” Maybe it’s because you’re a cowardly little b*tch and you won’t *answer!*
JTO: (laughs incredulously) Well, the question that I remember is do I want long form answers while the other person sits and waits for the answer—
MA: No!
JTO: –Or do I want people to just jump in back and forth on each other?
MA: Yes.
JTO: So, the answer that I gave you many times—
MA: No, you didn’t gave me many times you lying, f*cking f*ggot, you’re a liar! You’re a llllliar.
JTO: I yelled it at you many times—
MA: You didn’t give me that answer at all. You’re a *liar.*
JTO: Oh—(cleansing breath) Well, do you remember me shouting the word yes a couple minutes ago?
MA: No! Hey. Hey.
JTO: Do you?
MA: You f*cking idiot. *We have the tape here.* We could play it back for you.
JTO: Do you remember me sh—just, yes or no. Do you remember me shouting the word yes at you a few minutes ago?
MA: I remember you shouting incoherently. I don’t know what you were shouting.
JTO: I was shouting the word yes.
MA: I remember you getting butthurt and storming off.
JTO: The reason I shouted the word yes—
MA: I remember you storming off like a scared little b*tch! I remember that too!
JTO: Ah, god, you’re so tedious…
MA: (mockingly) Ah, god, so tedious! Again, I’m dealing with a f*cking idiot, I’m doing you the courtesy of dealing with *you.* Come on!
JTO: Why are you still in this conversation?
MA: Good question! You’re too *dumb* to be debating me! Are you kidding me?
JTO: No no no—why are you here, what’s your goal here?
MA: My goal? To educate a moron like you, to educate the general public!
JTO: That’s too vague. Be specific, what’s your goal?
MA: Too vague?
JTO: Too vague. What’s your specific goal—
MA: You are the last person to be lecturing anybody on vague and specific.
JTO: That’s—you’re changing the topic now.
MA: No I’m not!
JTO: So once again—you are changing the—
MA: I’m answering each challenge as it comes up you moron! It’s called being specific, you should learn how to do it!
JTO: (belches) No, you’re being vague. So, again—
MA: No, you’re burping!
JTO: What’s your goal?
MA: Uh, so, uh, sorry, I’m offended by your burping! I can’t answer any challenges anymore, cause you’re *burping.*
JTO: Okay, I’ll stop burping and I’ll just call you “little b*tch.” Would that make you feel better? I mean, we’re calling each other little b*tch now, right?
MA: No no no, I’m calling you a little b*tch cause you’re acting like a little b*tch, and I’m explaining why. I’m explaining—there’s a reason that I’m giving you, so it’s really a valid observation that you’re a little b*tch, because you’re a hypocrite and I keep pointing that out. You keep ignoring it.
JTO: Okay. So I’ve answered you question, what else do you want to know?
MA: You—you’ve answered what question?
JTO: The question—
MA: After I had to drag it out of you!
JTO: But, no, you talked over top of me every single time I tried to answer…
MA: No, you’re a, again, you’re a lying little b*tch. Okay. Let’s clear it up this time so we can proceed forward according to how you want to proceed forward. Now, be clear for the record. Which way do you want to proceed forward?
JTO: …And the two options are we each talk over top of one another—
MA: Mm-hm.
JTO: Or we ask a question and let the other person answer.
MA: Right.
JTO: The second! We ask a question and let the other person answer.
MA: All right. I agree to that—as long as *you* agree to that!
JTO: (incredulous pause) I just suggested it. Why wouldn’t I agree to that?
MA: No you didn’t suggest it! You’re a lying f*cking moron!
JTO: (garble)
MA: What are you talking about? I was the one who first shut up for your long stupid answer full of r*tarded assumptions—
JTO: (garble)
MA: –and didn’t interrupt it, and then I gave my answer, and when I started giving my answer—
JTO: We’ve already covered this ground, so let’s move forward.
MA: And when I started giving my answer—no, I, I’m covering your lie. I’m exposing your lie. Then when I gave my answer, you interrupted me. And that’s when I started lecturing you, about your own hypocrisy.
JTO: Well…if you stack four or five questions into one long rant, I’m going to answer them as they—
MA: Separate—well then should I answer all your idiotic assumptions in one long rant?
JTO: No, you should answer one of my idiotic assumptions. Just one.
MA: Just one. All right, I like how we have new rules! I didn’t know we had these specif—uh, interesting new rules where I’m only allowed to answer one of your idiotic assumptions—
JTO: No, I said I want you to answer only one, it’s not a rule, it’s, I just told you what I want.
MA: Okay great! I want a Ferrari!
JTO: I want you to answer—
MA: I want you to give me a Ferrari, cause I *want* it.
JTO: …No, uhhhh, let’s try to stay on topic—is this too—
MA: No! Let’s try to use your idiotic logic to make a *point* here!
JTO: My assumption is that the rhetoric you’ve presented suggests to me that you are a pick-up site. Now—
MA: We’ve answered this.
JTO: Oh, yeah, but the answer is cause I’m either moronic or socially incompetent or stupid or a b*tch—
MA: UNEDUCATED!
JTO: –or, any of the following.
MA: No no no. It’s—I gave a specific answer. It’s cause of your *lack of education.*
JTO: …My lack of education, do you happen to know what my level of education is?
MA: Yeah, it’s moron level!
JTO: (spit take, laughs incredulously)
MA: (imitates JTO’s laugh)
JTO: I wasn’t aware that that was a level of education!
MA: Yeah, I wasn’t, obviously I wasn’t either, but then I had to talk to you, how do you think I feel?
JTO: So—
MA: I thought you’d be an educated adult—
JTO: –if (garbled) education—
MA: –and able to construct a coherent point, and *follow your own rules!* That’s what I thought!
{fin}
Mr. Hembling presents his version of what happened during the debate here, but provides no link to a video.
Thal — former stablehands unite!
Once I dug out four stalls in a barn that had been neglected for years. Literally a foot of compacted shit covering the entire floor of each 10’x10′ stall (more than a foot in the stalls that had been inhabited longer).
Still not as terrible as listening to, much less transcribing, this nonsense had to have been. You are a brave soul and have well earned your respect!
Thal you are my hero. I needed the laugh today. The stupid still burns, but at least the comedy produced by utter lack of self awareness is there to soothe.
@guffaw-ferrets
Oof. Now THAT sounds like an undertaking. Just out of curiosity, how did you manage it? And were the horses ok? *fist-bump of grimy solidarity*
This particular turd paid for itself in helpless head-in-hands giggling. Such concentrated foolishness… I needed a lot of pineapple pizza to get through it, but the entertainment and you guys’ being so awesome definitely made it worthwhile.
@marci
Trust me, I needed the laugh too. This also helped.
Thal has kitty avatar!
Ceiling Cat is pleased.
Thal: I managed it because I was desperate to Prove Myself as a competent shit-slinger, and thought tackling a task *literally no one else wanted* would look good on my resume. People were in fact shocked that a (then-)eighteen-year-old girl went into this mess with a shovel and came out of a newly-cleaned barn unscathed, so it apparently worked … but I dunno for what, since “can sling A LOT of shit” doesn’t really impress anyone outside of a very narrow niche.
And the horses were all okay, for the relative value of “okay.” The guy raised (not entirely 100% breed-standard) Arabians, and while they were apparently healthy after a few serious visits from the farrier, they were *really short* Arabians. They had also never really been outside to pasture, so they needed a little help adjusting to some aspects of Normal Horse Life.
Fortunately they were very friendly, very tractable, and probably went on to become really nice show- or riding ponies for some lucky kids or smaller adults.
A+ equerry! *animal-loving shit-slinging grimy fistbump*
PS, storytime: this shit-barn happened to be right next door to the training/rescue barn where my mom and I worked, though the horses had been moved to another property by the time we worked there. Multiple people had asked the guy why his horses never went outside, and he said it was because they were “prize show stock”.
Meanwhile each stall had a ventilation window up near the eaves, and people could see the stallion looking out of his sometimes. They all thought this guy was raising 17hh (particularly tall) Arabians … but then the horses were tracked down and brought to us for training/rehab, so we found out they were like 14’2″ and had just been standing on two feet of shit.
“Prize show stock”, they were not, either, except in that guy’s mind — they *were* really cute, though, and kinda stubby like old-school Arabians. Of course, we didn’t care: they fit right in with the intersex donkey, the epileptic showjumper, the former rodeo-circus horse, and everyone else at the Island of Misfit Equids.
Yay! Thanks, and welcome, Thal 😀
Omigod I’m cracking up and I’m only just starting the transcript XD
And, kinda suprised that JohntheOtter sounds reasonable (or at least not totally imature) compared to the other guy. Compared to the other guy being key words, but whatever. 😀
@kittehs
DItto. This is surreal…
@Argenti Aertheri
Nice to see we love the word fuck 😀 Sadly, I’ve been having to cut it out of my vocabulary recently b/c I half-moved in with little kids XD
hahaha. XD ohmigod, this is strange XD.
RE: guffaw-ferrets
Of course, we didn’t care: they fit right in with the intersex donkey, the epileptic showjumper, the former rodeo-circus horse, and everyone else at the Island of Misfit Equids.
Wow, that is an interesting bunch! I’d think that an epileptic horse would be pretty rough, and a rodeo-circus horse, jeez. What a colorful group!
LBT: it was great times, for sure. It was really hard to feel strange around them, too, since they all had … let’s just call it “really odd habits.”
The epileptic horse did have a hard time, though. She had sustained a skull fracture that left her with what would be diagnosed in a human as “absent seizures”, and while she never fell down onto the ground in convulsions, she did sometimes go into full-on Weird Mode where her body would shudder and she would act like she wanted to crawl out of her skin. Her owner had hired some idiot who didn’t understand that this was neurological, so he tried to “train” (read: mindfuck and abuse) her out of this “behavior”, leaving her with frequent anxiety attacks and episodes of terror too.
Once we figured that out, though, life got a lot easier for her. After we put her in a stall between the super-calm-and-steady rodeo-circus horse and my mom’s empathetic horse-with-a-sense-of-humor, gave her frequent massages, and played guitar for her during her difficult times, she settled down a lot and stopped having panic attacks OR going into Weird Mode unless she was triggered (usually by men — she hated the living shit out of men).
She could never be ridden again, but she led a really normal pasture life while she was with us. She was also a lesbian and fell in jealous, passionate love with a beautiful gray filly who came in for training, so obviously she had come to the exact right place. I still think about her and hope she ended up okay.
The intersex donkey was a total pain in the ass, though. It had nothing to do with being intersex and everything to do with being a donkey.
guffaw-ferrets – I hope the beautiful grey filly didn’t mind having epileptic mare fall for her!
I’d really like to know more about empathetic horse with a sense of humour. I love hearing about horses with senses of humour. One of my favourite anecdotes – though I think it’s in the too-good-to-be-true variety – is of a young recruit in the Horse Guards or Blues and Royals working in the stable and quite unable to find the brush he’d just put down on a bucket. Then her realised all the horses in their stalls were watching him, and he tracked down the brush in the last stall.
RE: guffaw-ferrets
That does sound tough for the horse, but it sound like y’all were able to help her, which is good. And it sounds like she had quite a personality!
Sounds a lot like intelligent, tolerant social justice discourse to me. Not.
@guffaw-ferrets- I want to give those adorable horsies a hug. Poor babies! I am glad they are okay now.
Also, this whole conversation upthread is like, hilariously badly meta. It’s like Robert’s Rules of Order as a video, if Robert were a frothing rage beast.
Re, horseys: They do all have their individual personalities! Getting to know them is a lot like getting to know people who communicate with body language as opposed to spoken language. (Well, horses do have a spoken language, but not one that people can understand.)
The gray filly didn’t seem to mind being fallen in love with, either, though she “loved the one she was with” and would flirt with the boy horses during her heat cycle. That’s when epileptic horse would get jealous, herding gray filly back to the lady group and chasing the boys with her teeth out.
No one ever got hurt, since the boy horses were all gelded (castrated) and didn’t know what to do when the ladies asked for sexytimes anyway. I think most of them were just confused by the whole thing (“wait … what does she want? and why are you mad at me now?! I’m just gonna … go over here, okay?”)
Horses in captivity: opposite of MRAs in the wild.
I know this means she had her teeth bared, but I’m seeing an image of her taking her dentures out before chasing them … 😛
“The intersex donkey was a total pain in the ass, though. It had nothing to do with being intersex and everything to do with being a donkey.”
Thanks for that laugh, I am fucking beat after my tank swap. Island of misfit fish here, I had a habit, for years, of buying any solo schooling fish and getting them a school. Solo loaches just are not happy fish (other fish too, but loaches seem to be the big one where chains just do not get that they need other loaches)
LOL, kittehserf, that IS a great mental image! And also, *that* is how you do literary editing/criticism properly.
Argenti: glad I could help! Donkeys, dunno what to say other than that.
Your fish-saviorship will not go unnoticed when you’re brought before the Fishinati. Someone has to make friends for the misfit fish (misfish?) and I’m glad you stepped up to that challenge, even if it does mean a lifetime of tank swapping and related exhaustion.
I’m met a couple of donkeys, you needn’t say more! The fish…I moved back here with two, I could’ve just kept them ’til they died. That was about three tanks ago, and that whole velvet + ich = mass death thing (I do hope my charity to the misfits makes up for shit like that)
So what you’re saying is… the donkey was an ass?
Hahaha yes. This is always true, regardless of the donkey.
Speaking of great images, I’m seeing Argenti bowing before the Great Fishy Ones now.
@guffaw-ferrets
omg, geldings around a mare in heat are the funniest things ever. “Dude, ladyhorse is acting weird. What does she want?” “I dunno, ask her.” “You ask her! You’re closer!” “Not anymore.” “Guys, I…I feel like I should be really excited, but I don’t know why.” “Yeah, what are we supposed to be doing?” “I can’t even tell what muscle to flex.”
Glad to hear the horses got out all right…
Ah,.. mucking. I’ve done more than my share. Fig beetle larva from the stalls went to the chickens, and the eggs to us. Cubic yards of manure heaps (and you could see the stratifications, it was sort of like studying geology).