Over on Married Man Sex Life, doucheblogger Athol Kay has provided the ladies with a helpful checklist of the things they need to do, or to be, or to do be do be do, to become the ultimate “red pill” girlfriend or wife. But the women he describes sound a lot less like Trinity from The Matrix than the robotified housewives from The Stepford Wives.
Paul Elam has so far refrained from responding to the halfway-on-the-mark, halfway-completely-ridiculous criticism of the Men’s Rights movement leveled by rapey PUA douchenozzle Roosh that we discussed yesterday. Not even that bit comparing the very serious dudes reading A Voice for Men to silly ladies reading Cosmo was enough to provoke the oh-so-easily provoked Elam. Either he’s gotten very Zen about criticism from PUAs, or he’s spent the last several days punching pillows and muttering under his breath about evil “pussy beggars.”
But some of Elam’s acolytes took it upon themselves to respond for him. My favorite comment is this bait-and-switcher from MrStodern, which starts off with a vaguely reasonable observation before descending into misogynist nonsense.
Apparently feminists love pickup artists, and the only legitimate reason for dudes to have sex with women is to teach them a lesson. Who knew?
Men’s Rights Activists, I hate to have to break the news to you, but Roosh V, the rapey pickup guru I’ve been writing about a lot lately, is very disappointed in you and your so-called activism. In a sort-of followup to a post of his from several years back with the self-explanatory title “Men’s Rights Has Become A Euphemism For Sexual Loser,” Roosh lays into the “manginas” of the Men’s Rights movement, which he says isn’t really worthy of the name.
The biggest problem with MRAs is that they are not activists. They are pamphleteers. … They believe that one-thousand of them typing away and producing ten-thousand blog posts will change society. … [But] their movement hasn’t produced any results, only little online playgrounds where sad boys can sit in the sandbox and helplessly watch girls play with the cocky boys who understand the rules of the game.
Our dear friend Roosh, the pickup guru, has written some (self-published) books! One of them is called Day Bang. It’s an instructional manual for dudes who want to know how to convince ladies to have sex with them … in the daytime. It contains this bit of wisdom:
When it comes to how you view the girls you’re approaching, I’d be careful about having too much respect for them. While I’m not saying you should hate women, my initial impression of them is that they’re lubricated holes that exist mostly for a man’s sexual pleasure.
Yeah, nothing even vaguely hateful about reducing women to a body part.
I know all too well that putting them on a pedestal will make it challenging to get to sex within a short amount of time since girls can literally feel when you value their pussy. It’s a fact that nothing dries up an individual pussy more than if it suspects it’s being idolized by a man.
And nothing makes a woman’s vagina dry up and sew itself shut faster than learning that the guy macking on her is relying on a book that describes women as if they are their vaginas, and vice versa.
Manosphere misogynists like to tell themselves fairy tales about women. Their favorite such tale, repeated endlessly, is one called “The Cock Carousel” – sometimes referred to in expanded form as the “Alpha Asshole Cock Carousel” or the “Bad Boy Cock Carousel.” (Hence that Rooster-riding gal you see in this blog’s header about half the time.)
Despite the different names, the story is always, monotonously, the same: In their late teens and twenties, when they’re at the height of their sexual appeal, women (or at least the overwhelming majority of them) have sex in rapid succession with an assortment of charismatic but unreliable alpha males and “bad boys” who make their vaginas (or just ‘ginas) tingle. Then, sometime in their mid-to-late twenties, these women “hit the wall,” with their so-called sexual market value (or SMV) dropping faster than Facebook’s stock price. As Roissy/Heartiste puts it, in his typically overheated prose:
So over on Chateau Heartiste, the Dude Who Used to Call Himself Roissy seems personally affronted that the female athletes in the Olympics, by and large, didn’t live up to his wet dreams of Perfect Womanhood. In one post, he hails a Turkish newspaper columnist (yes, the same one we talked about here) who complained about the allegedly unwomanly bosoms of female Olympians, and offers his own less-than-complimentary assessment of their looks:
Who with the eyes to see hasn’t noticed the narrow hips, the grotesque six-pack abs (never a good look on women), the chest “stubs”, the linebacker shoulders, and the manjaws of an inordinate number of the female Olympians?
So why does it matter that Roissy/Heartiste couldn’t get a boner watching the Olympics? Apparently because these women are violating the PRIME DIRECTIVE, which forbids representatives of the United Federation of Planets from “intervene[ing] in matters which are essentially the domestic jurisdiction of any planetary social system.”
NOTE: “Bardamu” was ultimately revealed to be the pseudonym of the unlovely and untalented Matt Forney.
We talked a bit yesterday about pick-up artists and domestic violence – specifically, Heartiste’s suggestion that aspiring alpha males look to Chris Brown as a role model. So today I thought I would take the opportunity to write about one of the skeeviest and most notorious posts the manosphere has generated thus far – Ferdinand Bardamu’s “The Necessity of Domestic Violence.”
Bardamu took down his blog In Mala Fide some months back – I found the text of his post up on Manosphere Copies, a blog set up by the even skeevier MRA who goes by the name Jeremiah (aka JeremiahMRA, aka Things Are Bad) to host posts from manosphere blogs that are no more. In Mala Fide, which combined elements of PUA, Men’s Rights activism and “Human Biological Diversity” style racism, had a great deal of influence in the manosphere in its day. Bardamu published reprehensible things with regularity – see here, here and here for examples – so his defense of domestic violence is hardly unexpected.
Over on his little chateau, otherwise known as a blog, the pick-up Heartiste Formerly Known as Roissy suggests a rather unusual role model for young and not-so-young men hoping to impress women with their alphaness: Chris Brown. Not for being a charismatic singer, but for that time he nearly beat Rihanna to death.
Oh, you don’t have to literally beat up women to be an alpha. Just work on making them uncomfortable and insecure.
Maxim #19: Making a woman feel a little emotional pain will reward you a thousandfold in returned physical pleasure.
You don’t have to be fists-of-fury Chris Brown to pick up a Rihanna and make her fall in deep, profound love with you, but don’t let the lesson of their relationship be lost on you. If you are a beta male — and odds are you are — you can superglue your relationship bond by instilling in your woman a calculated level of discomfort and insecurity. You won’t feel bad about this, because you will know that the discomfort you create is subconsciously DESIRED by your girl. Despite her outward appearance of frustration and timorous appeasement, you will know that inside, she is lit up like a vagina tree, with a squirting orgasm shooting out of the star on top.
In addition to everything else that is horribly wrong with this quote, let me just say that “lit up like a vagina tree” is not a phrase that I hope works its way into the vernacular.
So far, so good.
So yesterday, I appeared (albeit very briefly) on TheStream on Al Jazeera English along with Helen Lewis of the New Statesman, social media researcher Alice Marwick, Skepchick blogger Rebecca Watson, and others. The topic: online misogyny and harassment of women. No sooner had the show ended than I ran across two perfect examples of precisely the sort of misogynistic harassment we’d just been talking about, courtesy of Reddit and Roosh.
First, Reddit. On Monday, Forbes columnist Kashmir Hill – female, beep boop! – wrote a piece mocking the notion (apparently widespread in some circles) that in these hyper-connected days people without Facebook accounts are a bit suspect. But part way along towards making her point she committed the terrible error of making the following not-to-be-taken-literally remark: