As bad as most of the misogynistic ideas I write about on this blog tend to be, they at least have a certain perverse logic to them; if you accept their deeply flawed premises, at least long enough to try to parse the arguments, the conclusions make a sort of rough sense.
But when I wander into the online worlds of the so-called “involuntary celibates” I can quickly lose my moorings. Most incels are hugely depressed, and as I know from my own experience dealing with depression of varying degrees of severity over several decades, deep depression not only distorts your thinking; it also can make you weirdly self-obsessed, assuming that everything that happens in the world has something to do with you — both with your own imagined failings and with the alleged injustices the world supposedly imposes on you.
When you combine all this with the standard bad ideas of the misogynistic manosphere, incel “logic” can quickly become very strange indeed.
I say all this as a sort of introduction to this little “true story”I found on the Incels subreddit, a story that starts out with an awkward not-quite-interaction on a largely deserted bus and ends with a plot twist I have to say I never saw coming.
So let’s take a look at the post titled “Feminism’s fault I’m incel,” (archived here) by a fellow calling himself Brazierlord.
I was sitting next to this girl on the bus the other day and as the bus starting emptying out, I stood up to change seats like a good male is supposed to. I would be labeled as a danger to females if they saw me continue to sit next to that innocent female when I could easily move – obviously I was preparing to stalk her and rape her as soon as we got off the bus.
Obviously what he means by that last bit is that the others on the bus might consider him a bit creepy if he continued to sit next to the girl in question when there were now plenty of open seats. But his choice of words here, while meant sarcastically, make him seem even creepier than he intends.
So I stand up and I see her look at me through the corner of my eye. I move to the seat behind and at angle of -45 degrees from the horizontal to her. The entire time she is tracking me. Once I am seated she looks away and lays her head on the window.
Maybe she’s “tracking you” because you’re “tracking her” as you move to a new seat.
We get to our stop and she glances back at me. I am standing at this point and she hurries off the bus and nearly breaks into a run in the opposite direction.
Either she’s in a hurry, is nervous about being out alone, or our narrator really is giving off a creepy vibe.
So far, this seems to be a relatively straightforward story of a guy who may be giving off more of a creepy vibe than he realizes.
Then we get this:
If it weren’t for feminism I wouldn’t have changed seats and she wouldn’t hate me for breaking her heart. She probably would have followed me to my apartment and asked me if she could have sex with me and I wouldn’t be a virgin anymore
WHAT.
What the fuck are you talking about?
You didn’t break her heart. At best, she barely noticed you; at worst, you creeped her out. That’s it. Everything else is going on in your head, and nowhere else. Women do not follow strange men to their apartments to ask them for sex because they happened to sit next to each other on the bus. This is the sort of fantasy you come up with when you can’t imagine actually interacting with a woman as a real human being.
Get off of r/Incels and into therapy. Please. For your sake, and for the sake of every woman you sit next to on the bus.
@Fran
And as Mission Control, if nothing else. (And the only one who’s safe at the start of the game–she’s still on the D.S.S. Souleye, while Viridian’s…somewhere…and everyone else is all over the damn place.)
I thought that my take on Viridian might get mixed reception, to be honest–mostly because he visually got racelifted to white…well, literal titanium white. But I like it because it’s a bit subversive–you want a white male protagonist? Well, Viridian’s…white, in a sense…and, uh, not exactly male. (Written from the perspective of hypothetically trying to explain to someone who is not completely aware of non-binary genders, ex. most alt-right members.) He skirts the things.
And who needs nipples, really?
@ fran
Ewww. Each to their own of course but must confess it just seems weird all round fancying a cartoon character. Unless it’s Bugs Bunny when he dresses as a girl bunny; I’m only human.
That picture looks like an all pony remake of Usual Suspects. Because of the position of their feet I’ve got a bit of ‘small, far away’ confusion going on, so still non the wiser as to size.
@Troubelle
Cool Story, Sister and/or Too Much Information time:
When I was a wee Fran about 4 years old I stumbled on an anatomical chart of a woman in the living room from a medical magazine, and began touching my chest because I thought I was supposed to have breasts and was really upset I didn’t have any (this was back when I was still a femmy cisboychild).
My mother caught me and was utterly mortified and dragged me away from it.
I have large, thick, very sensitive dark-chocolate colored nipples and they are fantastic and I love having people play with them.
Hambeast, love your avatar!
Unfortunately, I’ve encountered men who thought the way the zero–er–hero of this story did.
One of the more harmless ones was a fellow I worked with setting up a banquet via a temp agency I was employed by. After the banquet had been broken down and we were waiting for agency vans to take us back, I was very tired and staring off into space. This fellow says to me “so, do you want to go out somewhere when we get back to the office?”
I politely said, “no thank you, I’m married.”
(I wasn’t, but he didn’t need to know that.)
He said in a miffed voice “well, with the way you were looking at me, I thought there might be something between us.”
I was flabbergasted, and it showed. I said, “buddy, I wasn’t looking at you. I wasn’t looking at anything. I was zoning out. I’m exhausted and I can’t wait to get home and go to sleep.”
As I said, he was one of the more harmless ones.
About pony size and age: there have been some attempts to figure out their size by using objects such as apples for reference, and the general estimate based on those seems to be around 4-5 feet at the top of the head (with some variation based on any individual character’s build, of course).
As for age, there are no official numbers, but Twilight acts kind of like a university student, and the rest are either employed or even run their own businesses/services, so late teen to young adult seems to be a good estimate.
@Fran
Hey, ya knew it young.
And have fun with that, friendperson. Kyeh.
Francesca Torpedo – Sounds great! I hope the commute isn’t too long.
I figured out gravatar! Now I’m Marie Dressler, a very popular comedian of the silent era and not a quilt block.
Sorry for the OT. Also I’m realizing this wall o’text is not coherent at all, it’s bedtime and I’m… medicated. You’ll probably want to skip this, but in case you don’t, here it is. I guess I needed to get it off my chest – ‘cept I didn’t, it’s still here, but I couldn’t even do that and now I’m getting too sleepy to keep typing. Also, what’s with the parentheses. Call myself a fucking writer huh.
Things are getting… well, familiarly weird and dumb. ’tis May again, my favorite month and also the one that puts me in the most pain. The festival which I attend every year (and is much of the reason for my relationship with this month) starts tomorrow and will last 4 days. I’m halfway through the process of packing my tent and survival gear (which mainly consists of obscene quantities of good food, good beer, and good weed, along with a solid stock of tears, depression and anxiety, just in case).
I… can’t say I’m thrilled. Every fucking year, I tell myself that I need to prepare emotionally and that I have all the time I need for that. And every fucking year, it comes so much faster than expected. And it’s over so much faster than I want it to, by the way – yeah, if you couldn’t tell how conflicted I am about this, you can now.
I usually have a great time, but that is despite the anxiety and pain, not without them. And sometimes it’s really fucking awful. I’m friends or former friends with pretty much everyone staffing the event (actually I’d be part of said staff if things had gone differently – some still ask me how come I ain’t helping them, and I wish I could tell them why and ask them to stop making that joke) and most of the regulars who come back every year, so I ain’t exactly going incognito. The uh former friends aren’t exactly happy with my presence and there have been open attempts to bully or scare me into not coming back. I don’t blame them, it seems they really do believe awful shit about me and I haven’t given them reasons not to.
So I dunno whether there’s gonna be a scene this year or not. Whatever the case, I’ll spend most of the time fearing one or staying far away from the hot spots – that is, everywhere that’s not my own camp, and actually even there. I guess I still have some of my old talent for making fast friends over sharing basic necessities or just a beer and joint, so I’ve never camped there alone before, but I’m afraid of that because I can’t afford to stay alone with my stupid sad ass. I’m also gonna see some old friends whom I usually only see once a year now, because of the “troubles” making it difficult to hang out in the same places. That will be cool, if we get a chance to catch up without constant deliberate disruptions (and they accuse me of harassing them by… still coming every year like I’d been doing long before that shit started). To be honest, my best friend (and only lifeline in that environment, ’cause he’s also their best friend, from the time we were all just one big old buncha weirdos) won’t be there because he’s in NZ for the year and I fucking miss the bastard, and will miss him even more tomorrow.
I dunno what’s gonna happen. My better judgement tells me not to go and stay here and play video games instead. My heart really wants to go and be with all those reprobates it loves – even the ones that don’t love it back anymore. And somewhere deep down, both hope for a fucking miracle, except the former is pretty pessimistic about the odds of that happening.
@Fruitloopsie
I call that rule 34 bis.
… and I wish the internet had stayed like it was, like, ten years ago. (and who knew I’d ever wish for that)
@Sinkable John
Unfortunately, I can’t give you an easy answer to that one–especially what with me being 17 and not ever having gone to such events before. I’m also biased, given that I’d much rather stay in than out.
It is your choice, in the end…but if you want to stay home and avoid the risk (and still do something you enjoy), I certainly don’t blame you.
Are there any other white ,hetro, Cis ,non nazi,non MRAs non assholes who also like MLP because it would be nice to know that I’m not the only one.
Are there any other white ,hetro, male ,non nazi,non MRAs non assholes who also like MLP because it would be nice to know that I’m not the only one.
@Fabe
Haven’t been watching it lately, but there’s a soft spot in my heart for it nonetheless. It helped me get through a bad time.
Well thats one. I’ve heard of other who say the show got them through tough times. I’ve haven’t been watching much of it lately either, mostly I’ve been reading the comics.
@Fabe
My shadowrun GM is into FiM and is a cishet white guy who is not a sexist xenophobe.
Fabe
I know a non sexist xenophobic white cishet guy at work who loves MLP too
@Alan Robertshaw
I get it, I really think I do. But this is where that childhood role-modeling thing becomes relevant. I can look back on my childhood and remember times where I was being programmed by my social exposure. I was raised by cartoons as much as anything else. That part of your brain that socially role-models things like idealized friends, groups, partners and more has cartoon characters in addition to the things my family iintended.
I got sucked into the mlp fandom through pony image macros on 4chan. That imprinting thing is some serious shit. I can remember mentally pretending I had a totally different social circle for years. It was much better than the social reality that I had as a kid on an air force base in the American south west.
@SinJo
*hug*
Also, I’m an antisocial person (I didn’t get born that way, I was damaged over time) and would suggest you stay in.
Don’t actually listen to me if you don’t want to.
@Troubelle
That is true. I used to do a lot of girly stuff as a kid, too.
However, that whole incident scarred me for a long time and made me think wanting tits (on myself, that is) was a bad thing to do.
I struggled really hard with my gender identity as a child. I used to read mostly books for girls, would fold a blanket around myself and pretend it was a dress…ugh.
I was stupid for so long and caused myself so much damage trying to be masculine.
@Fran
Yugh.
I couldn’t possibly know the extent of it, and I won’t pretend to. However, I’m glad that now, you have a better grip on who you are.
A very awesome woman. Who is black. And likes social justice. Also nerdy things. And swimming.
@Troubelle
Thank you for validating me. It really means a lot to me.
In the face of internet dudes saying shit like “You can’t be BLACK and TRANS and QUEER” it gives me no end of relief.
I’m perfectly within my rights to find women attractive. I also find men attractive, but I’d definitely say I skew 60% towards women.
I’m not sure if I’m just denying things about myself there, either, because a quick review of what arouses me reveals that I may only superficially like women sexually when I get right down to it. Most of my sexual experiences have been with men, but I find women more erotic.
Fuck, I don’t know about anything anymore. XO
@Fabe
I’ve met many and I try to be one. That show was like a kind of emotional velcro to me.
@Brony
I tried to like the show but it was so utterly Eurocentric and then added insult to injury by making Zecora a Tribal Magical Negro and shitting all over Native American people that I really got angry at it for a while. Between that and the Nazi Bronies I almost called it a day.
I’ve been getting back into it. Flurry Heart is best pony.
Ironically, I saw a bunch of pictures of Flurry as a tiny black girl. It’s like the universe is trying to tell me something.
@Fran
Hey–superficial or not, it’s a preference and it ain’t about to hurt anyone save for a conservative’s fee-fees. It’s what you like.
Meanwhile, I need to remind myself to draw Violet before uni lets out. And shade the darn thing, because I work in pencils on the back of my papers.
@Troubelle
Good luck, and thank you.
I’ve been lingering under a horrible case of depression recently and can’t do any art for any length of time.
I’ve also been acting out and not going to a therapist. Went to the doctor today for my general physical and he flat out mentioned that I seem distressed and anxious, probably because I mentioned I was afraid I was going to die of cancer and had him pushing and pulling every single stray roll of flesh on my body.
@Fran
Damn your dopamine deficiency.
In all seriousness, it’s as I’ve said before–I’m not in your shoes, sure, but I can understand how you’re not walking too well in ’em.