So the fellas over on the Men Going Their Own Way subreddit are having a little debate, of sorts. What unappealing inanimate object is the best metaphor for women over the dreaded age of 30? You know, elderly women.
Someone calling himself mlpl2015 goes with an old favorite: spoiled milk.
As the old joke goes:
“The food there is terrible! And such small portions!”
Joblessguy10, mlpl2015’s main opponent in this makeshift debate, goes with a fairly shopworn metaphor himself, declaring that “older” women are like used cars, depreciating by the day. But he weirds it up with some graphic sexual details. And some racism.
![joblessguy10 24 points 2 days ago Or, to compare women as objects, buying a 2005 model year Mercedes Benz S Class with wear and tear, gonnorhea stains in the back, and cum on the steering wheel, and 150K miles for the price of a fresh off the line 2016 Mercedes Benz S Class with 0 miles and 0 wear and tear. Also, Mercedes--both the car and the woman--has a low resale value and suffer depreciation. A woman will get fucked and cummed in, gets old, and comes to you. One day, in bed, she'll crave Tyrone's 13" cock. Would you allow yourself to pay even half price for a woman that's 30 and had a blast in her past? One of the reasons why I go MGTOW is because if the woman isn't attractive and fresh/very low mileage, there is no point paying for such a woman anyway. What does she have to offer you? And even if you get such am attractive woman, she's going to control your life, cheat on you, and then financially rape you. By the way, a woman doesn't have to be attractive to treat you like shit. Average looking and even fat women think they're worth full price. The juice isn't worth the squeeze. permalinksavereportgive goldreply [–]AmlanceJockey 19 points 2 days ago Also, there are two kids in the back. permalinksaveparentreportgive goldreply [–]cagethepepper 13 points 1 day ago Tyrone is in the trunk.](https://i0.wp.com/www.wehuntedthemammoth.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/09/tyronetrunk.png?resize=500%2C546&ssl=1)
I’ll get to the racism in a second, but my first question is: How exactly is joblessguy10 going to be paying for his brand-new Mercedes when he doesn’t have a job?
And on the metaphor itself: why is a car having sex with dudes (including the one it has stored inside of its own car body) instead of having sex with other cars, like normal cars do!
And just how bad does someone’s gonorrhea have to be that they are leaving visible stains on the upholstery? Have you guys accidentally mixed up “sex” with “David Cronenberg movies?”
Ok, the racism. Why are so many of these manosphere dudes so obsessed with the specter of hypersexualized black men with giant dicks having sex with “their” women? And then talking about this creepy fetishized fear online in a way that exposes their terror at their own perceived (or possibly quite real) sexual inadequacies?
Are fears of “race cuckolding’ really this widespread? Or is it just that the guys posting about “Tyrone” and his 13-inch cock on MGTOW message boards are the same guys who are yelling about “cuckservatives” on Twitter and The Daily Stormer?
I don’t know. I think I’m going to go watch an old David Cronenberg movie. Compared to these dudes, the man who’s been called “the King of Venereal Horror” has a subtle and healthy view of female sexuality.
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I’m 49 and have been married twice before; my husband is 45 and this is his first marriage; we’ve been married three years. Neither of us are in perfect health, but there are plenty of young people who are not in perfect health who nevertheless love and marry. Neither of us have ever owned homes, in my case because my exes left it to me to deal with the financial burdens, and in his case because it never really made sense for him. Neither of us have children, and we’re happy that way. I’m trying hard to think of what “firsts” we “should” have shared that we wish we had shared, and I am not coming up with anything, though hubby does kind of wish I hadn’t been married before (he admits this is mostly because I was mistreated and he wishes I hadn’t been put through that). We share a lot of “firsts” anyway, both the kind that are new and the kind that are “new to us”, and they’re all important and unique to our lives. We don’t need to live other people’s prescribed schedule or values. We’d never even have met if we had both been blushing virgins, ffs.
Incidentally, as a native of the Irish county that calls itself Tír Eoghain, my husband is less than amused by the assignment of the “Tyrone” name to the black-man stereotype.
@This Handle is a Test:
Not only is this nonsense, it’s damaging nonsense if you sincerely believe it. People’s “peak years” depend entirely on the person – personally, I found my forties to “peak” much higher than my thirties, which in turn were a considerable advance on my twenties. And I also strongly disagree that you’ve had “most of your big experiences by 45”. On the contrary, that’s roughly the age when I quit my salaried job and went completely freelance, the biggest leap into the unknown that I took since getting married a decade earlier – and in retrospect one of the best decisions I ever made, although it’s far more of a rollercoaster existence than anything I’ve experienced before. And far from “finishing up any job training”, I’m constantly learning – in fact, I often agree to take on a job, initially think “what the hell am I doing? I’ve never done this before”, frantically swot up on it and then pull it off against all the odds.
It is also the polar opposite of the truth to say that “the relationship is considerably lessened” by starting later in life – in fact, not only is this untrue, it’s also deeply insulting to people who have done this, as it implies that their relationship is somehow less worthy than that of two impetuous twentysomethings. Fortunately, it’s such obvious bullshit that I’m not the least bit offended – in fact, I’m actually sorry for you because you so clearly haven’t experienced the intensity of a fifteen-year relationship with the same person, and the extraordinary emotional richness that comes with it. None of the relationships that I had in my twenties can hold a candle to the one that I have in my forties.
Even if all my male friends predeceased me and some ghastly accident robbed me of my kids, I still have plenty of close, completely platonic friendships with women, so that’s not something that I’m remotely concerned about.
But it’s not merely damaging but actively dangerous to adopt the mindset that you’ll “accept anything”. For starters, the word “thing” is itself dehumanising enough to suggest that you’re only interested in having someone else around purely for the sake of it. And “taking whichever woman will have me” is a recipe for near-certain disaster unless you’re absolutely certain that you’re going into this relationship for reasons other than ancillary ones. If you can’t imagine living with her for decades and growing old together (with all that that implies), stay well away.
I had to wait until my mid-thirties before getting married because I wanted to be certain that I was ready for the commitment (especially since I knew I wanted kids), and I also didn’t want to compromise on the important things. My wife and I have surprisingly little in common in some areas (our cultural interests are almost totally divergent), but we both agree that if you’re not completely compatible sexually, in terms of a shared sense of humour and a core belief in the same value system, you’re setting yourself up for problems down the line. And neither of us was prepared to compromise on that, and I’m delighted that we didn’t.
Well, what you believe is demonstrable bullshit. And if you continue to believe it after this thread, it’s wilfully ignorant bullshit. But surely in this particular case you’d actually like to be proved wrong, since everything that you claim to be worried about is based on stereotypes, generalisations and outright fantasy?
@Paradoxical Intention
Sorry.
I didn’t think of that. I guess I’m used to Roosh’s name being in the title. This time it wasn’t. I’ll remember it in future.
Part of my problem with Lolita is that I read it after seeing the Kubrick film, so, in my head, the narration was in James Mason’s voice, which is like a +6 on the charm stat.
RosaDeLava:
Seriously? It’s been many years since I read it, but I don’t recall finding myself having any significant negative feelings towards Dolores. As a kid, she’s believably complex: sometimes sweet, sometimes bratty, sometimes needy, but certainly not unlikeable. Later, when she’s older, she’s painted with a broader brush, but the reader sees that she’s a damaged person, thanks to the adults in her life, particularly HH. I was left feeling very sympathetic towards her as she tried to muddle on with her life.
For me, the strength of the book is that HH is not a monster. He does monstrous things, and I hated him for that, but he does them for intensely human reasons, and the self-serving lies he uses to justify them to himself call to mind the rationalisations which we’ve probably all used in our own lives, albeit in less horrifying circumstances (e.g. “lying to x about y might seem bad, but actually it’s ok because reasons”).
Contrast HH with another predator from fiction: Hannibal Lecter. In the books, Lecter is portrayed as barely human. Someone who believed in demonic possession might point to Lecter and say “see! This is what I’m talking about!” He’s firmly in the part of the map marked “here be dragons”, so when you finish reading, he leaves no lasting impact on you. You don’t look around and wonder which of your acquaintances is secretly a cannibal! By contrast, HH could be your neighbour, your teacher, the guy in the cubicle next to yours in the office. You might even find him pleasant company, if you didn’t know his secret. This is probably not news for any abuse survivors, but it’s a message which society continues to struggle with, and that’s probably why the book remains controversial.
I haven’t seen the Adrian Lyne film, because why would I want more?
Wait, you’re supposed to have finished job training by the age of 25? Damn, why didn’t anyone tell me? Here I am, nearly 30 years later, still doing professional courses to develop my skills and stay current. Waste of time, obviously.
So does someone need to explain to them that we don’t store semen in the body indefinitely?
Haven’t read Lolita, but re: the idea that HH acts like she made him believe she wanted it—I’ve seen this excuse raised by pedophiles before, and it shocks me how few people answer firmly that it doesn’t matter.
It doesn’t matter if an underage person propositions/seduces you. BECAUSE YOU ARE THE ADULT.
If a teenager begs you to buy them tobacco products, you are obligated to refuse. Hopefully you have the morals to simply refuse to help them get addicted and sick. But at the very least you know that, “But officer, they asked me so nicely and wanted cigarettes really, really badly” won’t get you out of a fine.
If a fourteen year old begs to borrow your car, because they’ve driven lots of times before and won’t get pulled over, they promise, you should still say no. Because you are the adult, and it is illegal to let an underage, unlicensed person drive your car.
Even if you are approached by the boldest, most forward young teen who really is desperately attracted to you, you should still say no, BECAUSE YOU ARE THE ADULT. If you really are so morally confused that you don’t get why that’s a problem, IT IS ILLEGAL. That is enough information to always, always say no.
This is not difficult. It horrifies me when grown adults who misread Lolita pretend that it is.
I read Lolita for the first time when I was 12 and I was horrified; Dolores was just a kid, like me, and I knew HH was out of touch with the reality of the little girl. I’ve reread it a couple of times since, but could never get past my initial reaction.
Lolita was in our school library, but it was a thick enough book that no one else had read it…the librarian asked me about it, and I told her it was a very dirty book. According to friends, she took it off the shelf after I left, proceeded to start reading, and her eyebrows kept going up until she tore the book apart, put it in the wastebasket and took it out to the parking lot and burned it.
While I don’t approve of burning books, I am not sure I approve of this particular book being available to random 12 year olds. While it engendered some temporary squicky feelings for me in regards to adult men, I can’t imagine what it would have done for a 12 year old who was being or had been molested.
I might have been 13…that was a long time ago.
I’ve heard the whole “finish your skills by 25, get your life experiences over by 45” spiel before. It was what I believed back in university. It’s the white-male-going-into-a-high-paying-job life script.
Here’s how it’s supposed to work, at least in the UK:
– Decide on career at 16
– University at 18, including good intern summer placements
– Professional graduate job at 21-22, unless you do a PhD
– Acquire professional qualifications by 25
– In a management position by 30
– Married by 35
– Partner or middle management by 40
– Senior position by 45
– Semi-retire by 50/55
This script, like a lot of toxically masculine stuff, is a death march. It works on the basis that because some people do end up doing it, everybody must do it or they deserve no respect. It’s a suicide pact. Only a very few people can manage such a pace (by design; if it was possible for many people to do then it wouldn’t feel privileged) and it requires one to be brutal with all other aspects of life. If you plan to have kids and actually look after them, good luck staying on the script. If you picked wrong at 16, good luck staying on the script. If you have any health issues, good luck. If new technology makes your qualifications obsolete, good luck. Et cetera.
Someone who believes in this script, I’ve found, normally also tends to dehumanise everyone who isn’t attempting the death march or has fallen off it. This is why, when such a person says “everyone should have their qualifications by 25” the word ‘everyone’ means something different from what it normally means.
I say this as a white man who works a corporate career, who fell off the script very, very hard in his early 20s and has since managed to claw my way back into something not far off from it. There’s nothing like suddenly losing privilege to make you very aware of it.
@Fred_the_Dog
Your school library? Wow, somebody miscalculated.
I read that book when I was 15 and it was just awful. I stuck with it and it never got any better. I’ve got no wish to read it again.
@Victoria
Welcome, Victoria. The care system sounds very tough. Congratulations on embarking on higher education despite the challenges. In the United States, the education system is more flexible, so older students aren’t that unusual. I hope that your professors and courses are interesting.
I agree with this 100%. In fact, one of the reasons why I went freelance was because it was impossible to move forwards in my old salaried job without taking on managerial responsibilities, which for various reasons I didn’t want to do (chief among them being that I’d be absolutely terrible). And even then I was over a decade older than the manager in the plan that you outline.
As a home-based freelancer who’s totally reliant on broadband and keeping up with the latest technology, I have to constantly reinvent myself. Even my skillset of two years ago wouldn’t have been good enough for what I do now. And I don’t get the luxury of sponsored training courses and paid time off work – I have to fund everything myself (including equipment and software), and make the time to learn how to use it.
None of which is remotely a complaint: I find this independence absolutely exhilarating, and my late forties rank very high amongst the best years of my life as a result. Not least because I’ve managed to break completely free from the script, and I wouldn’t start reading from it again unless financial circumstances left me with no choice (and in any case I suspect I’d have problems ticking the expected boxes).
Oh, and I didn’t complete a degree until I was over thirty – and I only bothered with one because there were too many jobs in my field of interest that demanded one as a non-negotiable condition.
Welcome, Victoria. You seem like an awesome person to have come up through that; and we tend to like awesome people here.
If you ever want to talk about how different aspects of society treat somebody who came up through the care system, I’d be very interested in reading it to help me circumvent my privilege in that regard.
Yes, he did. And yes, it does.
And if you’re being judgy, then so am I, and I’m not ashamed to say it. I judge the fuck out of any piece of shit who keeps spreadsheets on women he’s been with. Because seriously, who DOES that? Other than a complete wanker, I mean? We’re not checkmarks on a chart or notches on a friggin’ bedpost, we’re PEOPLE. And we have every right to judge a guy adversely for bullshit like that.
Yeah, I’m gonna go along with the “this is nonsense” crowd, and here’s why.
At 25, I had one university degree, and no commensurately cushy job to justify my having gotten it. I was working part-time in retail, as I had been for a couple of years already. I graduated straight into the Mulroney recession of the early ’90s, so nobody my age was lucking out unless they’d been born into a family that could guarantee them a job. Mine wouldn’t, even though we were well off. And I loathed the idea of going into hotel management or hospitality, as I’m far too introverted for anything of the sort. (Not to mention all the scungy people one has to deal with in such jobs, and on the regular.)
I had originally wanted to be a doctor, but my math block screwed me up there, as did my introversion. I had a nervous breakdown in second year of university, which is when most people applying for med school do so (it’s the earliest, in Canada at least, that one has the requisite university science credits to be considered a serious applicant). I switched majors back to English Lit, and pulled out of my depression in third year and started acing the hardest courses I took, which were Old Norse and Intro to Beowulf.
Oh yeah, and relationship-wise: I was a virgin, very much against my will, until 25. The guy I’d hoped to be with when we both graduated turned out to be gay. (He’s still my best friend, so hey.) And the other guy I was seeing turned out to be a dud as well; he was impotent with me, but apparently had no trouble screwing everyone else, or so he bragged. And he asked me if I would be okay with an open marriage. Uh, no — if I’m gonna marry anyone, it will NOT be so he gets to screw around on me and I have to wonder when he’ll ever get around to me. If I’d married him, I’d probably STILL be a virgin now. As it is, he only ever referred to me as his “future fiancée”, which was very convenient, as a proposal never came. If it did, I’d have had to say no outright. As it is, I dumped him very diplomatically when I met someone else, with whom I did eventually end up doffing my virginity…very boringly. And I got dumped two years later anyway, and had to start seeing other people all over again. It was depressing as hell, and I contemplated suicide a lot during this time.
If these are all the “big experiences” of my life, fuck it. The only big thing about them was the fact that I survived them all and did not kill myself or even try to. I’m still plugging away, trying to find my niche, even at this late age. And stupidly, I do believe I CAN.
The idea that you can get onto the “right” track before a certain age, be it 25 or 30 or whatever, can go die in a fire as far as I’m concerned. Most people don’t fit that schedule, and shouldn’t even try to. It’s a trap dreamt up by corporate honchos, and it’s a recipe for disappointment and disaster. Once you realize it doesn’t matter, that it’s NOT all over by 30, and in many cases hasn’t even begun yet, you feel a lot freer. I know I do.
Me too. It took me quite awhile to reconcile with myself after I jumped off the conveyor belt to nowhere. At 28, I was in a good job that I didn’t particularly like (I didn’t hate it. I just wasn’t doing what I wanted to be doing), my boss had repeated ignored my requests to go in my preferred direction and the politics of the place were starting to get to me. I chose to break my contract (1 year left with no hope of renewal) and move overseas to get my PhD. It was scary for a lot of reasons, but one of them is that I was doing things in a non-traditional way. It shouldn’t really have surprised me. I’ve been doing things my own way my whole life, but this choice was going this far from the traditional plan. I still question this choice that I made, but less now than at the beginning. I’m doing something that is better for me.
I’m now 31 and I definitely don’t think my worst years are behind me. My partner and I are planning all sorts of adventures together and I’m even planning some on my own. I’ve been to France and the Netherlands and Iceland and all over the UK. This weekend, I’m going to hike the Yorkshire Three Peaks Challenge, solo, which is something I definitely would not have done two years ago, nor do I think I would have been fit enough to do it then.
When I was 25 and accepted that job I mentioned above, it was with the expectation that I would be converted from contract to full-time employee. I thought I’d be fine working there for the rest of my life. I was on the path, but the path got boring and made me unhappy, so I got off and proved to myself that I don’t have to follow expectations (mine or anyone else’s). I can do so much more.
@ej
I love the three peaks challenge. Do you still get the badge?
I’m glad you acknowledged it’s Yorkshire”. That justifies our plans to reaquire Cumbria (that lot claim Whernside is in their bit)
And it’s not just any object, but objects that get used up or damaged, which says a lot about their attitudes towards sex and the recipients of their sex. Does toxic masculinity basically boil down to achieving status by wrecking things?
Anyone read the following Huffington Post article? The comments are…interesting, and by interesting, I mean horrifying by some turns.
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/no-hymen-no-diamond-group-searches-for-beautiful-virgin-brides-wtf_560558e1e4b0dd85030730a9
God, no.
@Lisa C –
Dean-o’s made an appearance:
http://imgur.com/HjLFIem
It’s pretty hilarious that there’s one guy hopping about posting, “These aren’t MRAs! There’s nothing on their site that says they’re MRAs! PROVE THEY’RE MRAs!”…
…and then along comes Dean.
@Alan
I think you can get a certificate and you can buy badges and things for it. I make sure to say that I’m doing the Yorkshire challenge (Pen-y-Ghent, Whernside, and Ingleborough) as opposed to the National Three Peaks Challenge (Ben Nevis, Scafell Pike, and Snowdon). They are about the same mileage (for hiking, ~24 miles), but the National has more elevation change and the added complication of getting from Scotland to England to Wales within the time limit of 24 hours. There’s less climbing in the Yorkshire challenge, but the goal time there is only 12 hours.
I would have been daunted by this challenge and intimidated by even talking about it just a few years ago. I find it hard to believe that my best years are already behind me when I’m just starting to realize how much of the world there is for me to see.
Also, with regard to relationships, my partner didn’t fall in love with me until I got off the traditional path. He loves me because we can (and do) have adventures together. I spent so long thinking I was going to follow the traditional route and trying to make that happen. I’m so glad it didn’t. I’d probably have ended up in a terrible marriage and wouldn’t have done half the things that I have. Sometimes I feel like I’m still getting to know this adventurous version of myself, but I really like her and I can’t wait to see what she will get up to next.
Re: being sorted by 25
I left uni with a degree that would lead nowhere ( not in a lateral direction anyway) because I hadn’t even really wanted to go. The government at the time had pushed young people into enrolling with promises of good jobs if they did and shit/no jobs if they didn’t. When we graduated, the economy had crashed and we were thousands in debt AND stuck with shit/no jobs anyway (thanks Labour Party! You suck).
I did an internship for 8 months because I thought I wanted to work in the third sector. Turns out I can’t stand office work. I then got sucked into one of those multi-level marketing schemes that promised big money and progression. It didn’t work out. Not because those things are a sham, they do actually work, but because the only people who can succeed are a very specific type of people and I just didn’t have the self esteem to achieve what was necessary. The biggest flaw with those schemes, I’d say, is that they’re terrible at developing people. There is little support or encouragement, just top down pressure to hit targets. If you’re not a super confident person to start with, you won’t make it.
But anyway, I tried that for three years before I accepted that I just can’t do it. I don’t regret doing it in the first place. It helped me develop in a different way and I’m now able to separate the chaff from the wheat when it comes to what they taught me. It wasn’t all bad. But the point is: I had to start again. I’m nearly 27, and working a minimum wage job while living at home because that’s just where I am now. I tried the American Dream (or the British version anyway). I gave it all I had. It didn’t work out. BUT I now have more idea of what I want to do with my life and because of that, I have no regrets. To be honest, I’m going through a lot of inner healing while I’m here in this place and it really does feel like I’m getting a second start. It doesn’t matter that I’m over 25. I can do it better this time, and I will.