Ok, so I’m really back this time. I just needed to have a few more days to clear my head of manosphere nonsense. Also, did I mention that my computer had become basically unusable for anything involving the middle of the keyboard, like typing and doing searches and those sorts of things.
Today I got my replacement laptop, a low-end ASUS packed with RAM and hard drive space. When it arrived, I had fantasies of breezily downloading Chrome and settling in to dash off a clever post.
Then I actually tried to download Chrome and all hell broke loose. And by hell I mean WIndows 11, which reacted to the Google incursion into its turf by immediately turning the screen black. Then, after I somehow got the screen working properly again I discovered that I had accidentally switched from touch-pad mode to touchscreen mode. Which is really not a good mode for a laptop, I don’t think. Also, Windows doesn’t seem to want to let me switch my default browser to Chrome no matter how many times I click.
Anyway, any further reciutations of the many roadblocks I faced would probably bore you all as much as they infuriated me. So let’s move on to the second item on the agenda, which is a fellow called Roosh V, a consent-deficient pickup artist who found Jesus after getting really high on mushrooms and turned into fundamentalist fanatic.
Anyway, I’m on Roosh’s mailing list so I get regular iupdates on Roosh’s new career as a freelance moralist. The subject line for today’s update was the dramatic if ungrammatical “Were you beat as a child?” which certainly grabbed my attention.
Much of the post itself consisted of Roosh’s recollections of the abuse he says he endured as a kid, mostly coming from his mother. If he’s telling the truth — and I think he probably is — his childhood was truly fucked up.
Alas, he didn’t take from this the lesson that “sparing the rod” is actually a good thing, just that isn’t so effective if parents “discipline” their children when they’re angry and not when the child in question has actually done anything bad.
Now, Roosh doesn’t come out in favor of beatings exactly, but he seems rather too enamored of the idea of “disciplining” people younger and smaller than him.
“Disciplining children is the best way to prepare fallen little souls to fully worship their Creator as mature adults,” he writes.
Don’t feel bad if the phrase “fallen little souls” makes you vomit in your mouth a little.
Roosh devotes a good deal of his post to a recounting of a recent dinner he had with Orthodox Christian parents and their small children.
“What struck me about the disciplinary method of the Orthodox parents is the constant and consistent nature of it,” he writes.
Kids will be unruly and brazen, and so every few minutes something happened that was an opportunity for discipline in a patient and loving way, never in anger like with my parents.
“Every few minutes” the kids needed to be publicly “disciplined?” Why, exactly, and how?
The fruit of this discipline was obvious. The children, in spite of their minor mistakes, behave like angels in my eyes. They have no flaws that I can perceive. … but they weren’t born like this—they were molded through the Orthodox faith of their parents, who know that the discipline which demands parental obedience prepares them to obey God and one day enter His Kingdom.
Oy.
Without any discipline, a child grows up to be a feral adult, chafed at following any type of authority, whether human or divine, developing a level of pride that is even higher than God Himself.
In Roosh’s particular case, he feels that the lack of real discipline in his life led him to be a “derelict” and a “demon,” which isn’t so far off the mark. Except that Roosh blames himself for the wrong sins. He think’s he was wrong for teaching men how to “sin” by having sex with women; he doesn’t seem to recognize that his real sin lay in writing books and posts that seemed to provide a step-by-step path to date rape — a path that he seems to have walked himself, if his own accounts of his “sex life” are anything close to true.
Roosh follows his discussion of the world’s most perfectly disciplined children with a jaundiced portrait of a hypothetical “undisciplined” woman..
Imagine a woman who wasn’t disciplined as a child. She was always treated like a princess and trained to develop self-esteem, self-confidence, and masculine aggression. She did not obey her parents to not get those tattoos and she certainly doesn’t obey God, but one day she will faithfully obey a man who becomes her husband. Hah! Such an assertion only exists in the mashed potato mind of the lustful man who wants to passionately possess her body.
Whether he’s writing about ways to cajole women into bed or denouncing women as sinful harlots, Roosh is consistent in one thing: he writes like shit.
She will put on the veneer of obedience so that he falls in love with her and gives her a fairy tale wedding, enhancing the narrative in her mind of a woman who is worthy of a man’s devoted love, but how long will that pleasantness last before she morphs into a terror? Five years… one year… maybe one month?! If a woman doesn’t obey God, her Creator, she will not obey a mortal man for long, no matter how attractive or rich he is.
Well, good for her.
“If I ever have children,” Roosh concludes, causing me to jolt awake in horror,
I will not be their friend or ‘cool’ dad,—no, I will be the loving drillmaster, and grind away at their fallen and evil will so that it is supple enough to obey God’s will, and may they then receive God in all His grace like their old dad.
Don’t let your kids anywhere near this guy.
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@ malintzin
Maybe it’s the cool dance?
#keepthefaith
@nequam: I was thinking the same thing.
Unlike Roosh’s brain, however, mashed potatoes are wholesome and nutritious, and won’t damage your child so badly. I mean, they wash out easily and have no cholesterol until you add it. You can also sculpt Wyoming mountains from them.
Oh no, not that! Sometimes they really just stop trying to hide what they really think, huh?
Well, Rincewind in the Discworld novels got his sexual urges mixed up with a craving for potatoes after a long time stranded on desert islands, but that’s not quite the same thing. Also while he may be a coward with an astonishing ability to keep alive in all kinds of situations (mainly by running away from them), Rincewind also isn’t a rapist, abusive piece of shit. So I dunno.
“Drillmaster”. “Grind away”. “Supple”. “Receive”. Lots of gross sexual imagery there.
He’s still a date-rapey PUA forcing himself on others, but now he’s got God as his wingman.
Doing evil in God’s name is the unforgivable sin. Buckle up, Roosh.
@GSS ex-noob
Wow, now that is a movie reference I haven’t seen in a while. Saw that one in theatres too, at a birthday party (and went home to pick out the five notes on the piano). I’m really dating myself here, aren’t I?
Lollipop, I might recommend checking to see how full your C drive is, looking at what is consuming CPU, and running a defragmentation if you haven’t done so already.
I’m a baby troubleshooting tech, so feel free to give me practice 🙂
I’ve encountered some pretty-fervent born-again Christians and they never referred to their kids as “fallen souls”. Something about Roosh’s turn of phrase when yapping on about the depth of his religious conversion always rings false to me. Are we sure this isn’t him just trying (a little too hard) with a new grift?
Angels who need to be disciplined every few minutes?
@Jenora: you are my people.
Saw the movie on Xmas Eve or Xmas itself (easiest day to get tickets to the one theater) with the younger contingent, and at dinner that night, my brother got a mad look in his eyes as he dished up his taters. Wild laughter from us young’uns, utter incomprehensibility from the parents.
None of the parents felt the need to discipline us, who all grew up to have college educations and jobs and marriages and all that.
When Roosh visited Iceland, he sought to commit date rape, like everywhere else. If I visited Iceland, I’d try the traditional dish of roasted sheep head (incl. brain), mashed potatoes, mashed turnips and gravy. That sounds exactly like my type of food.
If you have to discipline a girl to stop her from developing “masculine aggression”, then it’s the masculine aggression that’s natural, not the feminine placidity.
Hey…Doosh? I was raised to believe that I was being “treated like a princess” and that confidence and self-esteem were positive traits regardless of gender. Meanwhile: my dad was “disciplining” me via
Hell, I probably learned more “aggression” (I really don’t give a damn what gender you arbitrarily assign to the trait) from that garbage than I would have from actually being pampered. So just make a wild-ass fucking guess how much respect I have for anyone who defends child abuse, much less on the grounds that little girls will grow up to be “terrors” (read: anything short of submissive little handmaids) otherwise, much less invokes some alleged “divine law” in order to rationalize their bullshit, you squalid prurient tartuffe.
And yes, I do have an unobtrusive pseudo-tribal tattoo (specifically, a literary reference that would be completely lost on a willful ignoramus like you). I also have a husband of more than a decade, who does not expect me to “obey” but whom I am perfectly willing to help whenever he asks or just appears to need it. I hope that you die (of natural causes, mind you) not merely alone, but all too aware that you brought it on yourself.
The cycle continues. It explains some of his misogyny and his new-found extreme Christianity. I only hope that he does not have children of his own