We Hunted The Mammoth
Red Pill ideology isn’t just hateful and misogynistic; it’s also a remarkably bleak way to look at the world, even for the men who supposedly benefit the most from taking “the red pill” — that is, the allegedly smooth players who boast about bedding so many women on “game” blogs.
Take, for example, what you might call the “spoiled milk” theory of marriage that’s sometimes trotted out on these blogs.
Some of you may have noticed that I often tag my posts here with the phrase “Men Who Should Not Ever Be With Women Ever.” From time to time I worry that I’m being a tad harsh. After all, not all of these fellas are totally irredeemable, right? Right?
And then I run across some guys for whom my tag is if anything a gross understatement. So today, some Men Who Should Not Ever Be With Women Ever Ever Ever Ever Ever. And our dear old friend Roosh, the woman-hating woman-chaser, heads up the list.
The other day on Roosh’s forum, some twisted asshole posted a link to a news story about two hikers who had been rescued after getting lost in the fog in a state park in Maine — only to drown after accidentally driving off a boat launch on their way out of the park and getting trapped in their minivan.
Oh yeah, they were women.
The commenter on Roosh’s forum thought this was hilarious “proof of the equality of the genders, except when it comes to navigation, opening doors, etc.”
While a few of the commenters reacted like decent human beings and pointed out that this story wasn’t actually funny — raising the question of why they were hanging out on Roosh’s forum in the first place — others joined in with their own “jokes.”
Roosh himself set the tone, seizing on the detail that one of the women had called for help on her cell phone as as the minivan sank.
This is what happens when you create a culture of helpless women dependent on the state for everything.
The LAST thing I would think of in their case is to make a phone call with a car filling with water. Too bad they were idiots, but god gave them a chance at life on the mountain. He just said “fuck it” and let them die.
Regular forum contributor Scorpion added:
I really don’t understand how the fuck it’s possible to drive your car at full speed off a boat ramp and then have your first response be to pull out your fucking cell phone.
It’s a good case study for what happens to women when left to their own devices in a world without men. Completely and utterly helpless in a crisis. Any time something goes wrong, just pick up the phone and call a man to fix it.
Lady, that might work when it’s your basement is filling up with water, but not when it’s the sinking car you’re sitting in.
The death of the unborn baby was like a mercy-kill from God. If they had lived, no doubt the dimwitted mother would have found some other way to kill them both, like leaving the gas on or dropping a radio in the tub while bathing the baby. Amazing she made it to her late 30s. I wonder how many times the men in her life have bailed her out before.
And someone called Divorco offered his two cents as well:
This is not funny, it is a terrible tragedy
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… because an innocent dog died too.
There’s more of this, much more.
And these are men who honestly think they’re inherently superior to women.
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Thanks! (And thanks again to all who’ve already donated.) Now back to our regularly scheduled programming:
The news of misogynistic marriage-hater Mark Minter’s upcoming nuptials has been ricocheting around the manosphere for about a week now. In my previous post on the subject, I looked at the manosphere’s initial reaction to this startling — and for many, disillusioning — development. Today, a followup, looking at how the manosphere has begun to adjust to the idea of a married Minty.
Mark Minter, a bitter, angry, divorced man in his late fifties, made a name for himself over the last year or so in the tiny world of the misogynist manosphere as that subculture’s most vociferous opponent of marriage.
In a series of little manifestos, deposited as comments on various manosphere blogs, Minter excoriated the institution he thought made a “slave” of men. “Get it through your head,” he wrote in one,
Men are from mars; women are FUCKING IDIOTS.
Never marry. … Duh. Game. Duh. Pump them, dump them, next them. Duh. THAT IS THE ONLY WAY TO WIN. Duh!!!!!
That was the old Mark Minter. Then, last week, word got out that Minty was getting married. To a single mother (oh no!) over the age of thirty (eek!) that he’s apparently never even met in person (well, actually that does sound a bit worrisome).
Leave it to the guys at Roosh V’s Return of Kings blog to find a bright side, of sorts, to a study reporting that one in five Americans suffered from some sort of mental illness in 2010, with more women (23%) amongst those affected than men (16.8%).
Since “at least a quarter of the women you run into at any given time are not going to be alright upstairs,” RoK contributor Athlone McGinn argues, and the percentage is likely to be much higher amongst younger women, you might as well use this fact to your advantage.
But first you need to accept the disadvantages. For one thing, you need to realize your powerful man-logic won’t work on these gals:
If you’re 18-25, you will in many cases be dealing with someone who is fundamentally incapable of being reliably rational.
Never mind that most mental illnesses don’t affect the ability to think rationally about most things. Someone with an intense phobia of Donald Trump’s hair, for example, is able to think rationally about everything except Donald Trump’s hair.
Maybe that’s a bad example. I’m not sure it’s entirely irrational to be afraid of Donald Trump’s hair.
And, like their sane counterparts, the crazy ladies may sometimes turn you down. But at least this time you don’t have to feel so bad about yourself.
You may think you’re a loser because you get shot down by these girls more than you’d like, but this isn’t always the case: you’re often dealing with not-entirely-alright girls with illogical criteria.
Oh, but McGinn assures us that “[t]his isn’t an excuse, mind you.” You still need to make sure your “game” is tight. Just don’t be too hard on yourself, because women (like the prices at Crazy Eddie’s electronics emporiums) are literally insane.
So what’s the great advantage of dating a woman who’s mentally ill? McGinn is a bit vague, probably deliberately, but essentially he suggests that men can keep “dysfunctional” women in line by treating them like shit:
Dysfunctional treatment is often welcomed by dysfunctional people, and many of those with mental issues fit that bill. Since we’ve already established that a very large number of young women fit into that category, you should not be surprised to see so many of them respond positively to dysfunctional behavior.
It is not uncommon for young men to adopt some of these dysfunctional behaviors, find increased sexual/romantic success with their female peers as a result, and then feel guilty about it all. Such guilt is understandable (they don’t like the fact that morally degraded versions of themselves are more appealing to girls in general than the men they actually prefer to be), but ultimately unnecessary—there is nothing a man can do about the female proclivity to welcome such behavior except adapt to it. It is the result of factors much bigger than him.
Poor pickup artists! They don’t want to be abusive, manipulative, exploitative assholes and terrible people generally. They’re driven to this awful behavior by forces beyond their control — like the fact that women are statistically somewhat more likely to suffer from mental illness than men.
Well, it’s time for a little celebration, I guess. Because I’ve just received word — straight from the Manosphere itself — that feminism has defeated Pickup Artistry in the battle for control of America.
That, at least, is the message of a blog post from our old acquaintance Firepower. On his Eradica blog, he writes sadly that “[d]espite 15 years [of PUA] Feminism still rules America – NOT men. Certainly not puas.” The problem, to poor feminism-hating Firepower?
Oh, Heartiste, sometimes I can’t help but wonder if you’ve been trolling us all along. I mean, what kind of master pickup guru is this squicked out by vaginas?
Eating a girl out anytime during the first few weeks of dating is beta. When you eat a girl out, you telegraph your incredible horniness for her. Men normally do not want to go down on women and bury their mouths in that fetid, humid mess unless they find her so overwhelmingly hot that they can’t help themselves.
Today I’m going to talk about Janet Bloomfield — AKA JudgyBitch — and her bizarre attack on the original Don’t Be That Guy anti-rape posters in Edmonton. But I’m going to take a bit of a detour first, so bear with me.
I recently picked up a copy of Arthur Koestler’s The Case of the Midwife Toad, a nonfiction account of a scientific feud that provided me with some diverting travel reading and put me in the mood to read more of Koestler’s nonfiction.
But doing some rudimentary Googling I made a rather horrifying discovery about Koestler, whom I’d admired since reading his bracing account of breaking with Communism in the classic The God That Failed anthology: according to a recent biographer, Koestler was a serial rapist and abuser of women.
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.
