This guy can’t understand why every girl isn’t the girl who can’t say no. It’s just sex, baby, as natural as using a sex toy, except that, well, you’re actually the sex toy here.
Category: rapey
Attention, MGTOWs:
By David Futrelle
On Wednesday, a Malaysian member of parliament proposed a new kind of “Sexual Harassment Act” to help protect men from being “seduced” into raping or otherwise molesting women and girls wearing too-sexy clothes.
Another day, another drive-by misogynist commenter who ends up being even more terrible than the terrible people I wrote about in the post he’s commenting on.
So I was skimming my way through the comment section on a recent Telegraph article on MRAs and the Red Pill. Naturally, the comment section was filled to overflowing with angry comments from an assortment of familiar MRA and “Red Pill” names. I happened to notice some, well, intriguing contributions to the discussion from a fellow I didn’t know: DarkTriadMan, first name, Ivan.
Though he avoids the “red-pill, blue-pill” lingo that so fascinates so many reactionary. woman-hating doofballs, Ivan Adultman — sorry, Ivan DarkTriadMan — basically thinks we live in the Matrix:
So A Voice for Men’s Top Chef August Løvenskiolds — McLøven to you and me — is back with more recipes for hungry Men Going Their Own Way. Having previously shared his recipes for such adventurous dishes as overcooked chicken breasts and Velveeta-smothered cauliflowers, McLøven today takes on a mainstay of fine cuisine: Jello.
Yes, that’s right. He’s teaching his readers how to make Jello. Oh, but not just plain Jello: it’s got a little bit of fruit juice in it, and an assortment of artificial sweeteners. Oh, and one of his recipes also has cream cheese and almonds in it, like those sophisticated Jello mold desserts you may remember from the 1970s. Apparently “Going Your Own Way” means “Going The Way Your Grandma Went When She Prepared Desserts for Church Functions.”
I eagerly await McLøven’s recipes for toast and a glass of water.
But more interesting than McLøven’s recipes is the reason he decided to focus on Jello: Because it gave him an excuse to make rape jokes.
Free Northerner: "The concept of marital rape creates the trauma of marital rape." And spouses who say "no" to sex are sinners.
Free Northerner is a “Dark Enlightenment” blogger who describes himself as “a Christian and a reactionary monarchist from British North America” who,
after a period of red pill exploration … decided to embrace Christian masculinity. I am working to improve myself for God’s glory. My plan is to find a wife and raise a large family with traditional values.
If any woman ever decides to marry him – and I sincerely hope no one ever does — she should be aware that her Darkly Enlightened husband does not believe there is such a thing as marital rape.
In a recent post, Free Northerner set forth the essentially the same argument as his fellow reactionary Vox Day: that the marriage contract provides “sexual consent … for life,” and that those who argue for the existence of marital rape are thereby undermining the legitimacy of marriage itself. And then he adds some tweaks that make his terrible argument even more terrible than that of Mr. Day. But we’ll get to those in a moment.
First, his basic claim:
Oh, dear. Our old friend Roosh – the rapey, racist expat pickup guru – seems to be having some sort of existential crisis. In a new post titled “Men Are Nothing More Than Clowns To The Modern Woman,” – yes, really – he laments the sad fact that women are no longer forced to rely on men.
There is definitely not a single woman alive in the Western world who needs a man. While in the past a woman had to put forth effort to obtain a husband who would help her survive, today she is protected by a welfare state that ensures she will never go hungry or spend one night on the street.
The HORROR!
Well, Roosh can rest easy, because, at least in the United States, his nightmare of women not going hungry or being forced to sleep on the streets is just that, a bad dream. Presumably he will be pleased to learn that lots of women (and children) go hungry. Lots of women (and children) are homeless.
Even a child she has out of wedlock from a drunken night out will not have to suffer from her mistake, and that’s in spite of the fact that many nations already provide her with free contraception to compensate for her lack of judgement in selecting worthy mates.
A tad ironic coming from a dude who constantly brags about “raw dogging” it – that is, having sex without a condom – with drunk women he’s just met.
Anything required for a woman’s survival or pleasure can be easily achieved without her having to put forth commitment, sacrifice, or labor. She can shave her head, gain 50 pounds, and disfigure herself with tattoos yet still have many suitors to—at the minimum—have sex on demand.
Such a terrible injustice, that women Roosh finds unattractive are actually able to have sex.
Her food and shelter will be provided by a state which has embarked on an extraordinary effort to compete with men for her devotion and loyalty.
So instead of looking for women who say that they “need a man,” Roosh has begun to focus on women who say that they “want a man.” Unfortunately, when he’s asked women if they want a man, “[o]nly in a few instances did a woman outright say yes, and these usually happened in Ukraine.”
Huh. Not sure that’s a real scientific poll there kiddo, as I imagine that very few women are going to answer “yes” to that question when it’s asked of them by this guy:
Anyhoo, so all this has given poor old Roosh a sad. Because women who don’t need men, who actually have options in their lives, are less interested in jumping into traditional long-term relationships than those with few options in life other than hooking themselves to a male provider.
And so, Roosh has sadly concluded, the typical young women of today
will treat you as a distraction to her more important job, girls’ nights out, and social networking validation happy time. Men have become an utterly replaceable and expendable commodity in a girl’s life. Her interest in a man is not unlike her interest in a new television show or Apple product … .
Huh. Or perhaps this is because you’re dating women at least a decade younger than you, in their early 20s, and this is how people in their early 20s often approach dating?
When I look at myself in the mirror, I don’t see a man who has improved himself over the years to be the best that his genes allow—I see a glittery skirt that a girl encounters in the mall.
You see a what now?
Is the skirt too expensive or is it on sale? Is there only one left of her size or is the rack full of them? Does she already have something similar or is it totally novel? Does her friends think it’s cute or just alright? After trying it on, does it flatter her body or make her look fat?
Dude, this metaphor really isn’t working for you.
We are like glittery pieces of fashion to women—items that she truly doesn’t need. Not only has she already collected so many of them, but she can easily obtain more within walking distance from where she lives. She can even browse online from home while in her pajamas through a nearly unlimited selection.
Oh no! WOMEN HAVE CHOICES!
We are not men in the traditional sense—we are clowns.
Well, some men are.
With our tight game we have to be entertainers who create drama and excitement in a girl’s life, just long enough so that she spreads her legs and makes sexy noises, and even though she did commit such an intimate act with us, she will soon lose interest or simply get bored, and then move on to the next shiny cock that catches her eye.
Gosh, who would imagine that the women you have one-night-stands with after meeting them in a bar would treat you like a one-night-stand?
Also, if your penis is actually shiny, you might want to check with your doctor about that.
The other side of this coin is that we no longer need women. We don’t need them to maintain our home or cook good meals for us. We don’t need them in an age where having children is no longer important or valued.
That is true. Men are not incapable of cooking. I can even manage a grilled cheese sandwich once in a while. And, no, you’re not obligated to have kids. Heck, as a man you can get away with not having kids and not even have to take a lot of shit about it.
Whatever natural connection that once existed between the sexes has now been severed. Neither sex needs each other so we dedicate ourselves to corporations, entertainment, and base pleasures instead, and this is a great tragedy that most people believe is a sign of progress, a cause for celebration.
Ah ha ha ha ha ha ha.
I think Roosh think’s he’s had some sort of profound insight here. All because the 22-year-old women he spends his life pursuing don’t seem interested in properly genuflecting to him as a real man.
For the next girl I meet, I’m not going to ask her if she needs a man, because I know she doesn’t. Instead I will simply ask her if she wants a man, and if the answer leans yes, I will perform like the good clown I am so that she is entertained enough to have sex with me. Either she or I will eventually get bored and the relationship will end. Then I will simply repeat my performance on a someone new, because I’m a skilled clown, and that’s exactly what women today want.
You do that, Roosh, honey. Just try to make sure she’s actually sober enough to consent to your “performance” first. I know you have a little trouble with that.
Here’s a little video for Roosh to watch the next time he’s feeling down.
Sometimes I scour the internet for hours in search of material for this blog. Other times it just plops right in my lap. Today, it plopped, in the form of a new visitor to this blog by the name of J.S., a 52-year-old married farmer (he said) who brought with him some very old-fashioned ideas about love and romance and how men can best access the “secret gardens” of the pretty ladies of the world.
No, really, he did,proclaming himself an infallable guide to
the ‘secret language’( sub and non-verbal communication), the dating game, or how very attractive women go about choosing which men they let into their secret garden and which ones they don’t.
The primary lesson he tried to impart: that the “secret garden” is a little bit like Fight Club: The first rule of Secret Garden is that dudes can never ask to enter Secret Garden.
Even after all the time I’ve spent on this blog, I can still be astounded by the appalling hatefulness of the manosphere. The latest example? This post from the influential far-right manospherian who calls himself Vox Day, in which he argues, seriously, that encouraging rape is better for society than encouraging (white) women to work.
No, really.