Taranto takes on the twitstorm


James Taranto is an experienced columnist with a healthy sense of humor. When feminists attack he welcomes it because, like hecklers to a comedian, they only make his show better. On June 17, 2013 Taranto’s op-ed about a war on men was published in The Wall Street Journal. The next day he had roused enough frothy bile from rabid feminists that he followed up with a response on June 19th that exceeded the excellence of his original article. Since his critics do such a sloppy job of summarizing what Taranto’s article is about I’ll give you his more accurate version from the reply.

“To recap briefly: Sen. Claire McCaskill has placed a “permanent hold” on the nomination of Gen. Susan Helms to be vice commander of the Air Force Space Command. McCaskill is punishing Helms for having granted clemency to an officer under her command, Capt. Matthew Herrera, who was convicted of aggravated sexual assault.

We reviewed the facts and concluded that Helms was correct in holding that the prosecution case was so weak as to make the conviction unjust. (Herrera did not escape punishment: He pleaded guilty to an “indecent act” and was involuntarily discharged from the service.)”

While Taranto’s wit needs no choir for backup there are some wonderful muffs he failed to penetrate. I’ll go diving in.

Jezebel’s Katie J.M. Baker offers an extravaganza of lunacy faithfully cheered on by her devoted disciples in the comments section who are too obtuse to see the inconsistency of her hastily chosen words. Most likely they just don’t care if it makes sense. The day after Mr. Taranto’s article was published, Baker declares to her fans that she is definitely not “freaking out.” All evidence suggests otherwise.

In addition to writing “HE IS THE WORST” in all caps, Baker is unable to control the urge to use phrases like “slimy,” “woman-hating troll,” and “overwhelmingly horrible.” She’s not freaked out, she’s just overwhelmed. She is, in fact, so frenzied that she complains she hasn’t gotten a reply from WSJ editors to an email she sent just that morning. Take a deep breath Katie and remember they have real jobs. As she points out, “Wall Street Journal, [is] the best-selling newspaper in the country” but she fails to imagine that they got there by choosing good editors. When Katie calms down she may figure out that reminding people of how successful they are is not a good prelude to effectively questioning their ability to manage their own affairs.

Calm people don’t start campaigns to get someone fired, that’s what vindictive people do.

It’s hysterical to write “I’m not interested in engaging with Taranto” in an article all about him and his work. She probably didn’t get a response from the editors because by the time they read her email stating that Taranto’s piece “doesn’t foster discussion or present an interesting viewpoint” they could see that it had fostered her article. Bloggers worth speaking to don’t write articles about uninteresting people. Baker is either not worth replying to or she is lying.

I find Katie Baker’s viewpoint very interesting. I wonder how someone whose article discredits its own assertions manages to get published. Fascinating. She is a gruesome form of entertainment — if you like watching people repeatedly hit themselves in their own face.

June 18 was a busy day for Katies. Over at Salon, Katie McDonough published her bizarre response that begins with calling Taranto a “well-practiced troll” and attempting to prove it by linking to one of her own articles published in WSJ. Trolling happens when you put your fishing line in someone else’s pool. When he’s writing on his own site and you are going there to read it, you’re actually in his pool.

These feminists do love to redefine words.

In explaining the art of becoming a rape apologist, the “five easy steps” that McDonough lists are actually lazy leaps of illogic on the part of the writer. Step one involves quoting her own article that asserts rape in the military is increasing instead of linking to one by a third party that debunks that assertion.

There is little doubt that McDonough is happy deferring to her own authority when rushed for time. In conclusion Katie 2  is outraged Taranto won’t accept that a guy not even accused of rape committed the act of rape. This glitch in her reasoning happened because feminists like her are proffering the myth that all men are rapists who just haven’t raped yet. That’s actually not true, Katie.

Now we move onward to “recklessness.” When Taranto described Capt. Herrara’s behaviour as reckless, even if not rape or sexual assault, and stated that his accuser was also acting recklessly, McDonough claims he was implying the girl asked to be raped. Katie, there was no rape.

Step three involves not using a dictionary.

The next screwball stride can only be accomplished if you forget the testimony which showed the accuser to be unreliable came from a woman. Lt. Michelle Dickinson, who was present and the only one sober at the time of the incident, contradicted all evidence given by the accuser. It was not a case, as McDonough asserts, of “he said/she said” in which what “he” said was given more weight. It came down to “she said/she said” and weight was given to the sober one.

The final farce is that she faults Taranto for not asking what happened to the accuser. The reason we keep calling this woman “the accuser” is because no one knows her name. We’re legally not allowed to know who she is.

Katie McDonough has a very interesting viewpoint. I wonder how someone whose article discredits her own ability to reason manages to get published.

James Taranto has not only written a great article and a respectable reply to the furious flurry of feminist wrath, he’s managed to prove that Wall Street Journal editors are incredibly smart. I think Taranto deserves a raise. I’d like to hear more from him on the subject of gender wars. He seems like a clever bloke to know.

If Taranto is a cockroach he is the free verse poet from Archy and Mehitabel. Though I share his sentiment that the underlying destruction of men’s lives is extremely serious, I’ll leave you with his thoughts on why the twitstorm didn’t scare him:

“We can take the abuse. In fact, in this instance we delight in it, not only because we see the humor but because it proves us right.”


Archy, New York Tribune, September 11, 1922

Also posted on avoiceformen.com


Words of a Woman Going Her Own Way

Leave me alone

The words “I love you” have a physical effect on me: The blood drains from my face, I start to sweat, my throat dries up and I run from the room. It’s a guaranteed conversation killer. Of all the four letter words, “love” is the most odorous and foul of them all. It is a garbage truck that pulls up to your curb under the premise of removing your trash then, instead, dumps its load on your doorstep.

A declaration of love draws you into a contract in which you can never repay your assumed debt. It turns lithe, sturdy shoulders into a guilt laden hump. It flattens the arch of your soul, offers a saddle blanket intricately woven with blame, starched with promises, washed in tears and tumble dried with misplaced faith.

Romantic relationships are narcissistic, selfish affairs. It’s rather ironic that the inception of romantic relations was promptly followed by women becoming repulsive parasites. As soon as a woman acquires an emotional commitment, her previous lack of happiness transforms to become the result of her partner’s inattention, her frustrated career become a helpless condition of her partner obstructing her path. Where she had to take control of her destiny she can now foist her fears and foibles onto her companion’s hapless shoulders because she believes “all you need is love” so your love must suck.

Romantic relationships create a kind of insanity that can’t be cured. It is a fraud. Snake oil in a ribbon wrapped box of chocolate fudge. Supporting this neurotic, delusional state will never recover the sunk costs of our investment. Even as the tower of illusion groans with inevitable collapse and every spare moment of your time is spent patching the holes in the mortar of your mangled heart we are assured that it was not due to the faulty foundation of the structure, it was a result of poor maintenance of the roof tiles.

In case it hasn’t become clear, I’m a WGHOW. I’m boycotting women. As a bisexual, I lucked out and have an alternative but I still live in the same world with the wraiths of walking wounded, struggling in a sea of insecurity and brandishing my wit as my only weapon.

The sociologist Erich Fromm wrote that “mature love is union under the condition of preserving one’s integrity, one’s individuality.” That’s the Dijon of mating mustard for the connoisseur of commitments. I reject all relationships that ask me to sacrifice my well being for the sake of making someone else feel better about themselves. I am not a commodity. I’m not a happy pill to be kept capped in your vanity cabinet. People that make their happiness your problem are coaxing a co-dependency where there ought to be mutual self-respect.

MGTOWs are accused, among other things, of being selfish but self-love is something entirely different. Someone who doesn’t love themselves is incapable of loving another and, additionally, will warp all relationships into vampiric feasts for their feckless facade. But we don’t owe them an explanation.

“If other people do not understand our behavior—so what? Their request that we must only do what they understand is an attempt to dictate to us. If this is being “asocial” or “irrational” in their eyes, so be it. Mostly they resent our freedom and our courage to be ourselves.”
~Erich Fromm

I’ve met two self-proclaimed relationship experts. Both were in the business of teaching people how to put their own needs aside, cater to the whims of their partners, and support their partner emotionally even where they disagreed with what their SO was doing or saying. They were coaching their clients how to make symbiotic two person cults. They transformed individuals into a barnacle on a whale, a cleaner fish in an aquarium, a fly on a lump of dung.

While the experts insisted clients always focus on their own insufficiency in conflicts, both of these experts eagerly explained their personal marital failures as an inability of their partners to follow the rules of relationship. Taking responsibility for yourself is a great idea but it’s somehow been manipulated to demand you fuse yourself to another until their emotional state becomes your own. This obliteration of individuality can not support meaningful life.

Contrary to what feminists claim, these farces are not played out because any one gender controls the world. The strife exists because both genders experience a legitimate lack of control in the world. When you inspect the rabbit hole of relationships it turns out to be a microcosm of the human battle to overcome insignificance. The macrocosm is much more trouble to deal with so we’ve been railroaded into blaming each other instead.

Ernest Becker, a sociologist, psychologist, and anthropologist, spent his life trying to understand and solve the problem of human evil. He arrived at the concise conclusion that we are ultimately all driven by a shared need to feel like a significant being in a world of meaning.

Since we can’t overcome death, merely hope to put it off, we busy ourselves with what he called “immortality projects” in order to satisfy that compulsion. Some people achieve fame, others are satisfied with being known and admired by associates, and some just reproduce like bunnies until they feel their number of ancestors will successfully carry on their legacy until one of them manages to hit the immortality jackpot on behalf of all preceding generations. You might have noticed genealogy is a rabidly growing obsession and there will soon be more family tree graphs in existence than we have of the bark variety.

While “evil” seems a dramatic word for folks that are crouched over the search page results of people who share their surname, the consequences of these death denying quests do not remain as harmless. The study of human evil is not new. The same fears that fuel the furious fires of our love lives feed the flames of nationalism, racism, genocide, bigotry, and war. Our immortality projects aren’t hobbies and despite needing our companions to validate our significance, these drives put us in direct conflict with the competing projects of our consorts. This is the human tragedy. Our Divine Comedy.

“Nobody was very happy with the way history and civilization had turned out, and many thinkers of that time supposed that if the first steps in the process of the oppression of man by man could be pinpointed, then the decay of civilization might be arrested and even reversed.”
-Ernest Becker

Becker didn’t want his final work, Escape From Evil, published because he thought it was too cynical but the only way to dispel a darkness is to turn on a light. What makes Becker’s work significant is that, though he practised “soft science,” Terror Management Theory (TMT) has now progressed his ideas and accumulated empirical evidence that his assessment of the human condition was correct.

People have learned to fetishize perceived evil, giving it a killable form, in order to gain false security in an uncontrollable world in which they find themselves immersed. This is where feminism comes in with a jackhammer and pulverizes the residual cement that held marriages intact. When they declared men to be the source of evil, feminists created a bonding group to which women could cling while they set about exterminating the threat. It’s absurdly unique that the movement demanded that the threat remove itself then blamed the enemy for abandoning their stations.

Men fight a different battle, they are on the true hero’s journey.

“The usual hero adventure begins with someone from whom something has been taken, or who feels there is something lacking in the normal experience available or permitted to the members of society. The person then takes off on a series of adventures beyond the ordinary, either to recover what has been lost or to discover some life-giving elixir. It’s usually a cycle, a coming and a returning.”
-Joseph Campbell

The condition of loss or lack is shared but the mode of travel is strikingly different. Where feminists used blame and shame demanding men fix their problem, men are just asking obnoxious women to fuck off. The MHRM doesn’t hate women who take the hint.

The question that remains to be answered is whether or not women will become something to which we wish to return. Unlike many in the MHRM, I’d fuck a feminist if only to see the look on her face when I googled up my articles on AVfM in the afterglow. (Amateurs should not try this at home.) The problem with actually bedding the bitches is that the moment a feminist opens her mouth she gets less attractive with each sentence. The mouth that had me longing for a kiss takes on the appearance of two worms wriggling around a crusty crack in the sidewalk. It’s hard to make it to the bedroom when you have to keep saying “this isn’t going to work if you talk.”

I’m a satirist. Laughter is what gets me through the day but do not mistake the nature of my comedy. It is dark and expresses a message though it stops short of offering a solution. As a woman in the MHRM it is not my place to tell men what to do. I spread my message with humour because when people are laughing they open up to information they might otherwise reject. Satire is a form of social criticism that uses sharp tongue to incite improvement in the behaviour it mocks. It is not nice.

Honesty and courtesy are rare bedfellows. When it comes to tolerating stupidity I’m a cold-hearted bitch and proud of it. As a WGHOW I won’t tell you what to do because I’m not in the business of fixing people the way I like them. What I can do is lend my voice in an accountable, responsible way with the passion and commitment required to reach as many closed minds as possible.

Going your own way doesn’t have to mean giving up on the human race.

also published on avoiceformen.com

Bible Of The Bearded Clam


Cultists of the Bearded Clam come in two varieties, women who think they can do everything better than men and men who think women are worthy of worship. This is the Canon of Cunt, the Dogma of Douche, the Gospel of Gash, and the Tenet of Twats. The holy grail they seek will be served by men, filled with male blood and a tray of crumpets on the side.

A cunning stunt has been performed in which a class of people strive to “have it all”(1) while simultaneously insisting they are oppressed. This is their bible.



In the beginning the Holy Harpy created the feminist universe. She looked about and saw nothing of value. (2) The waters of this nothingness swirled about Her and was filled only with Her own reflection. Seeing that Her reflection was dark and murky She set Her bra on fire to create more light then quickly replaced it with a padded three way push-up version.

Next, the Harpy divided the light into masculine and feminine qualities putting a great divide between the two thus declaring one to be good and the other evil. So ended the first day.

Then the Harpy said, Let there be a firmament separating the waters and placing Women’s Studies between the two. Below the firmament was the Patriarchy and above it was Enlightenment. She looked down on Her creation and smiled. Thus ended the second day.

And the Harpy caused dry land to appear so that She might spread the seed of Her ideas amongst the arid cuntry. Feminist tablets were carved and groups gathered around them and soon those seeds took root. Trees grew and their fruits were self-propagating so that new seeds would spread into the wind. The Harpy saw that it was good and so ended the third day.

And the Harpy said, Let laws be enshrined to preserve the separation of masculine from feminine.

And so battered wife syndrome, rape culture, sexual harassment lawsuits, educational reforms, and special grants offered only to women were adopted by the governments. And the laws flourished and multiplied and the prisons were filled and the politicians cowered at the foot of the female vote. The Harpy saw that it was good and so ended the fourth day.

Then the Harpy said, Let the evil waters fill with bloated creatures and She called them Manginas. She taught them to satisfy the whims of the female and the Harpy instilled shame upon them so that they would be repelled by the Sea of Patriarchy in which they swam. Then the Harpy said, Let the arid cuntry fill with spindly creatures who can fly overhead. She called them White Knights and they protected the female from above picking off the belligerent sea creatures who evaded the Manginas and dared to raise their slimy heads from the evil waters. The Harpy was pleased and thus ended the fifth day.

And the Harpy said, Let all women control reproduction so that no man be they from sea or air may wilfully cause or prevent a pregnancy. She created laws to strip all men of their reproductive rights forcing them into homelessness or banishing them to the Land of Prison if they resisted these laws. And the Harpy gave woman dominion over all the heathen male creatures before her. So ended the sixth day.

Seeing all that She had created, the Holy Harpy laughed and blessed all of Her creation and on the seventh day She rested.


When the Holy Harpy awoke She heard woman crying that she was lonely and had no suitable mate with which to breed. (3) The Harpy caused woman to fall into a deep sleep while She took men from the air and sea and ingrained female qualities into them so that they might be allowed to walk the dry land of the female. And when all of the things that made him masculine were flogged out of him, then woman did awake. She cleaved unto her spouse so they became as one flesh and they were not ashamed.


For a brief time woman and her crafted version of man lived a happy but stunted libidinal life. But the serpent of masculinity slithered into her garden one day and dangled his manhood before her. He told her how sumptuous the apples of the sea were and so woman gave into temptation. While the Harpy was busy engraving a new magazine that spoke of sins, woman followed the snake into the ocean and they copulated with abandon. And so the Harpy discovered that many of Her blessed creatures had been sneaking off into the evil waters to lay with the slimy sea dwellers. (4) In a fit of rage, the Harpy then decreed that the definition of rape be expanded until all acts of fornication could be defined as criminal. She turned woman against woman until the lush garden was ripped asunder with frivolousness and suspicion. Women turned away from the Harpy and the Harpy sent them from her sight and they scattered into fractured houses.

And here ends the chronicles of the Garden of Feminism.


And it came to pass that women busied themselves with industry causing them to spend increasingly more time in the domain of men. The Holy Harpy looked down upon them and became enraged at all the women who had wandered astray. Women had let men believe that the men owned the homes they lived in and unleashed a baby boom after many men had been smote in a great war. Some of them did speak fondly of housewifery as a career.

The Harpy appeared to Her prophet, Betty Friedan, and instructed her to build an ark. A great wave would be caused to wash over the world flooding all that there was and only those that Betty brought upon her boat would survive. And so Betty set about the task of crafting the sailing vessel and named it The Feminine Mystique.

Though charged with saving all of the female species, the ark was only big enough to fit a select group of first class women. (5)

As the whole world was flooded, this elitist problem was pushed aside and those few who had been spared heralded the ark as a miraculous achievement. The men who were saved for breeding and for hoisting the sails and emptying chamber pots were kept busy fixing leaks that sprang in the boat lest it sink with them and all those aboard. After forty days and forty nights Betty sent out a male dove to search for dry land and it did return brandishing a twig of poison ivy and she had it slaughtered. She sent then a female dove which dutifully brought back an olive branch, thereby making her the symbol of peace.

When the ark struck land, the Harpy reiterated Her command to go forth and multiply. They did so, resulting in the epoch of The Sex Wars (6) The Harpy promised to never flood the world in wrath again and next time would merely make a rainbow. It seemed all was innocent and so time did pass once more.


Women began to begat as never before. Teenagers swollen with child filled the land acquiring their own network shows. (7) Women took control of sexuality and men slaved to keep up with their demands. (8) The female lust for cock so enraged the Holy Harpy that she confounded their language until it became impossible for them to communicate. Words and phrases such as “privilege” and “phallocentric hegemony” became entwined with “intersectionality” (9) until feminists found themselves warring with each other as well as with men who identified as female. The rainbow that the Harpy did promise became a curse. (10) Gender bent until it broke and young children were put on hormone blockers. (11)

The communication faculties of all genders were brought to a grinding halt and every generation stared woefully at its own destruction. The Harpy assured them that the end of men was a good thing. (12)


The tribes gave birth to heirs and they fought many territorial battles. As time came and went the Holy Harpy no longer walked with them or let them see Her face. They had many leaders who became oracles of the Harpy, and they passed along the commandments and the laws laid down so that they might appease Her. But women continued to stray into the evil waters to seek out their old false gods and the forbidden alpha men. The prophets warned the women of the Holy Harpy’s wrath but their vanity and their weakness caused them not to shy from the call of the sea of testosterone. Despite numerous magazine articles and self-help tablets, they had been unable to turn their blessed land males into the thing they desired. This caused a terrible rift among women until they were split into two sides which have remained at war to this day.

For the men, they worshipped by proxy watching for scarce and subtle signs of their own worthiness. Every time they got lucky it was a sign that the Harpy was pleased. When one tribesman sinned all were punished and so they watched each other closely offering regular sacrifices to their resident priestess. These men served woman faithfully and in fear. (13)

The warring tribes followed two different sets of commandments, and the men were now beholden to both versions of the holy book. They slaved to make more jails and as the lists of commandments grew so did the prison system. (14) On occasion they would cry out in despair and the Holy Harpy heard them.

The men of the land were allowed to drink beer and watch violent games contained within arenas where some of the water dwellers were permitted to play sports. Women monitored their men closely during these times because they knew that the men would be vulnerable to reverting to the old ways of the Alpha. (15) Some of the women took pleasure in the elevated excitement that would result from their men’s brief exposure but would quickly destroy any lingering testosterone brought home from the games. (16)

And so they continued in this manner, waiting for the Promised Land.

Thus ends Genesis of the emasculated man.


  1. http://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2012/07/why-women-still-cant-have-it-all/309020/
  2. Ignoring facts about the protections built into society that benefited women.http://en.wikisource.org/wiki/The_Legal_Subjection_of_Men
  3. http://www.city-journal.org/2008/18_1_single_young_men.html
  4. http://www.examiner.com/article/bad-boys-why-are-women-attracted-to-them
  5. http://www.theatlantic.com/sexes/archive/2013/02/4-big-problems-with-the-feminine-mystique/273069/
  6. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Feminist_sex_wars
  7. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Teen_Mom
  8. http://blogs.villagevoice.com/runninscared/2013/03/the_new_york_ci_2.php
  9. http://web.grcc.edu/Pr/english/2008/AGlossaryofWomensStudiesTerms.pdf
  10. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Feminist_views_on_transgenderism_and_transsexualism
  11. http://theconversation.com/eugenics-and-the-practice-of-transgendering-children-3838
  12. http://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2010/07/the-end-of-men/308135/
  13. http://jezebel.com/5944293/the-rise-of-the-needy-man
  14. http://www.sociology.org/content/vol7.2/01_krienert.html
  15. http://www.psyc.sfu.ca/ugrad/files/HonoursProjects/2006may/PillayM.pdf
  16. http://jezebel.com/5987888/if-you-want-a-more-thoughtful-boyfriend-try-pegging-him

Also posted on avoiceformen.com

The Battle Of The Beavers


Feminism comes in different sexual positions.

One feminist, Deborah Tolman, converted the moment she discovered that the missionary position is least likely to give a woman an orgasm. (1) As it turns out, your literal sexual position can actually result in feminism. Never in history has there been a better argument for doing it doggy style.

After decades of clashing, sex-positive and sex-negative feminist battle-axes have given birth to the sex-confused. For such a mechanically straightforward human act, the amount of carnal confusion surrounding sex is quite astounding. Let’s look at the ins and outs.

In order to spare folks the visual of our anti-porn queen, Andrea Dworkin, let us imagine instead a rotund puppet with a clump of frizzy dark hair glued to it. The face is a frowny mouth under two lumps of coal and that’s all you need to know.

Doozy Dworkin, the sex-negative guru, had some strong opinions about how impossible it is for women to legitimately enjoy sex. Ever. Period. Regardless of position. Though she protested that her book Intercourse never actually stated all heterosexual sex is rape, she is quite clear that to her “[t]he normal fuck by a normal man is taken to be an act of invasion and ownership undertaken in a mode of predation.” To paraphrase, Dworkin’s irreparable problem involved the equipment. Women get stuck with a baseball glove while men get to wield a bat.

“In the experience of intercourse, she loses the capacity for integrity because her body—the basis of privacy and freedom in the material world for all human beings—is entered and occupied; the boundaries of her physical body are—neutrally speaking— violated.” (2)

I remember playing baseball in grade seven and a fly ball was headed straight towards me in the outfield. I lined up, stuck my glove in the air and closed my eyes. I can’t tell you how satisfying it was when I felt a hard solid thunk. I looked down with amazement to find that I’d actually caught the damned thing. To this day I still enjoy the memory of the first time that ball hit my hand.

A new branch of study arose for those women who remain uncomfortable with their anatomical role in the game-of-grind. Women can now take classes teaching them how to “actively receive” during intercourse to make it feel a little less rapey.

I’ve heard about these women before. We normally call them dead fucks. Starfish on sticks. (I don’t mind pounding home this point.) If there’s a course available, get their arses in there because I shudder to think of how disappointing these chicks have been to their wannabe lovers.

What does one talk about in these classes? How does one practice actively receiving? They might close the blinds and start out lightly by doing things like answering the phone. Then they progress to throwing Nerf balls at each other; if it hits you in the head you did it wrong. Advanced classes incorporate eating various fruits and vegetables; if you wait for the banana to come to you it’s a fail.

The super secret levels teach her how to tone the muff muscles until she can grab him by the cock and throw him to the ground with her twat.

Thus we arrive at the problem created by the founding mother of this school of thought:

“A commitment to sexual equality with males is a commitment to becoming the rich instead of the poor, the rapist instead of the raped, the murderer instead of the murdered.”

~Andrea Dworkin (3)

Yikes. Attack of the nookie ninjas!

Next to enter this vacuous hole is the opposing sex-positive feminist view, creating The Civil War Of Snatch. This new brand of grrrl power encourages women to be brazen bitches. They’ll get that double D surgery under the fib that these sisters are doing it for themselves. They parade their sexual hunger in the public all-you-can-eat buffet. It’s all progressive goodness until men put their grubby hands in to foul the merchandise. The sexual power of these creatures is easily ruptured by the first prick.

Foolish men who dare to drool at their pushed up, tummy tucked divinity soon find themselves on the wrong end of a lawsuit. These sex-positive women gorging themselves on their own lustful behaviours are deeply disturbed by the side effect of men getting aroused. Hands off the sushi train.

Jaclyn Friedman of WAM! and Jill Filipovic of Feministe had a delightful conversation about female masturbation and how great it would be if women could admit to self-pleasuring without it getting warped into feeding male pleasure. (4) This is a serious problem for them. They want you nasty ass men to stop getting turned on when women talk about fucking themselves. You’re screwing it up for the sexpo divas. These hot heathens declare that men need to stop sexualizing women’s sexuality. Wrap your face around that one.

They demand the freedom to talk about flicking their beans without finding some dude winding his trouser crank. That’s a reasonable request if you don’t mind thought police.

These sexually liberated viragos are easily spotted. En masse, a great shrew of feminists strut with signs on Slutwalks. They do this to reclaim the word slut while competing to look the sluttiest among sluts in a pre-Halloween excuse to flaunt their flesh in daylight. You can find out what they think a slut looks like by attending one of these events, but it becomes sadly obvious that they haven’t watched enough porn.

A real slut looks like a librarian. She tells you to “shhh” then puts that finger between her luscious lips and closes her eyes while she moistens and suckles at it. Whatever version of whore, the grand delusion of the Slutwalk premise remains: Guys don’t have a problem with sluts. Women have the problem.

Never once has a man called me a slut in a bad way.

It’s a cat-scratch jungle out there. The competition is fierce and it’s vicious.  Nobody treats a woman’s body like an object as meticulously as a woman does. We paint it, tweeze it, wax it, surgically enhance it, bake it, fill it, bleach it, steam it, tousle it, fluff and fold it, and dress it up like Barbie on barbiturates. All of that just so we can put it in a window and wait for men to steam up the glass with their hot bestial breath while they check the balance in their bank accounts.

Doesn’t that sound positive to you?

Despite encouraging women to feel secure and confident with their sexuality, Friedman is a champion of the concept of “rape culture.” Be confident but be afraid. She claims our culture trivializes rape then goes on to call her political attack on a social media site #FBrape. It’s confusing but it’s not her fault. It’s an academic issue that you’d only understand if you’ve taken Women’s Studies. (5)

A note to Friedman: If you’re going to attack Facebook for violence then revoke the poke. I think we all hate getting poked because what the fuck is that anyway?

Now we’ve arrived at the sex-confused group and it’s hard to be in the middle of a war zone.

Protests run rampant demanding we rid the world of rape and sexist objectification of women. A“Lose The Lads’ Mags” campaign (6) encourages retail employees to sue their bosses for making them sell Hustler and Playboy. No one forced these workers to take the job in the first place.

Meanwhile, the biggest advance towards mainstreaming porn was accomplished by a woman. Fifty Shades Of Grey, by E.L James, is unashamedly read on subway trains and in lunch rooms by middle aged women without the slightest blush. This is a book that resulted from a fifty year old woman turning the Twilight stories into a kinky erotic fantasy. This woman created adult porn while thinking about teenagers. 70 million women worldwide now have a choir of cash registers singing “Oh Cum All Ye Faithful”. I guarantee you the patriarchy wasn’t behind this one.

Men are a lot less confused about sex than women and they seem to have a better grasp of what constitutes rape. The only debate about easing off statutory rape laws was amongst feminists after The Vagina Monologue’s “The Little Coochie Snorcher That Could” ruffled some feathers. Some feminists decided that young children are perfectly capable of making sexual choices and, most particularly, when the older seducer is a woman. Rape is a hypersensitive subject until it interferes with female entertainment. (7)

Sex isn’t a Rubik’s Cube. Things run smoother when people who don’t like to fuck stay away from partners with high libidos. It also helps if women who want to be seen as sexual creatures stop blaming other people for noticing their sexuality. If you think the female body is beautiful, then don’t get upset when you see it on page 3. Sexuality is not a disease, don’t turn it into one. We don’t need an antidote.

The question at hand is whether feminism has managed to fuck up the enjoyable act of fucking. The answer is an “enthusiastic yes.”


  1. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-uC2E9ur1vM
  2. http://www.nostatusquo.com/ACLU/dworkin/IntercourseII.html
  3. http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/a/andreadwor154464.html
  4. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iHsG43Pyitk 05:30
  5. http://www.avoiceformen.com/feminism/cult-ivating-feminism/
  6. http://www.newstatesman.com/media/2013/05/lose-lads-mags-campaign-demonstrates-power-modern-feminism
  7. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sex-positive_feminism#Statutory_rape_laws

Also posted on A Voice For Men

Open Letter To Facebook – re #FBrape campaign

Stern blond woman stood outdoors with arms folded

The recent Twitter campaign by WAM! to tell Facebook how to operate your social media site has caused great concern for a group of people at least as large as those who presented their complaint to you. WAM! does not speak for all women.

Do not let it fall aside that WAM! essentially used your competition to attack you.  They did not spend their precious time scouring Twitter for evidence of equal violations or, if they did, made a choice of which site there were going to attack. No one doubts that any sexism occurring on Facebook is mirrored on Twitter, they are just being asked to ignore it for political purposes. Their campaign has a hashtag, not a “like” button.

The late Aaron Swartz said:

There is a battle going on right now. A battle to define everything that happens on the internet in terms of traditional things that the law understands… is the freedom to connect like freedom of speech or the freedom to murder? The way we answer these questions will shape the next era of our society. No, the next era of our entire planet. They’ll determine whether new technology will enhance and entrench our civil liberties or whether it will simply gut them. Will these computers we have all around us be a tool for human liberty or the most powerful tools for social control? The answers are up to us.

It is well known and indisputable that current guidelines on rating content allow violence in abundance compared to the exposure of sexually oriented flesh. I see no evidence that Facebook is taking on different guidelines than the government sanctioned censorship boards. Kicking a man in the groin or outright threatening to castrate him is currently acceptable comedy to today’s standards. It’s not even called “edgy.” Jennifer Aniston recently kicked a guy in the nutsack just to get more “hits” for a Smartwater ad and not only does #Fbrape not care, they helped deliver the predicted “likes.” It is selective tunnel vision on the part of this campaign.

If WAM! dislikes the current definitions of what is PG rated vs R they need to take that up with the censorship boards who can then announce a change in guidelines to Facebook, Twitter, the film and television industries and all other concerned parties. To claim that Facebook is the generator of censorship standards is more than intellectually dishonest, it smells like a hashtag funded way make the newspapers with an easier target. Now let’s focus on their method.

Their method of complaining to your advertisers is even more obtuse. The only reason those adverts appeared on the page is because the person screen-capping it clicked on the link and went looking for the objectionable content. The FBrape campaign, like so many other ill constructed feminist protests that seek to make a spectacle of themselves, failed to recognize their own agency in their problem. They seem to not understand how the internet works. They present women as if we are helpless creatures that can’t resist clicking on a link or can’t get over the emotional trauma of having seen something we didn’t like. They presume women are incapable of figuring out how to block someone from our news feed.

When you click on things you give them power. When you write about things you don’t like you give them power they didn’t have prior to your words and attention. When they went looking for bad jokes about beating women up they took the advertisers with them. The corporations complained to should actually be angry with the complainers for being so stupid as to cause their adverts appear on the page they clicked.

Facebook has a choice to make.

#FBrape (don’t forget the hashtag) is singling you out as the only social media site they worry about and telling you that they want you to censor your site in a way not demanded of anyone else and in a way that only worries about one gender. If you believe them, women should only be allowed to use Facebook while supervised.

They aren’t worried about the page that declares all Facebook executives should be castrated (presumably they’d cut off Sandberg’s tits if they thought about it long enough) because they are actually not worried about your future, they are only worried about justifying their own future. They are a business. This is how they pay their bills. WAM! is out of a job if they don’t find someone to pick on. Right now they’ve aimed their desperate arrow at you. That the very campaigns they launch result in the backlash postings they find so offensive is not an issue for them because it keeps them in business.

What do you think will happen if you let them dictate who is allowed to say, what is funny and what isn’t and simultaneously kowtow to the twitter campaign? This is not about social justice, this is about politics and there is a lot at stake.

I don’t envy anyone at Facebook right now. We know that when women set their sights on a target they strap on their biggest asset and wield their voting power. The issue at hand is not about whether Facebook approves of misogyny, it’s about whether or not Facebook will do what feminists tell them to do. That choice is ultimately yours but you need to know that feminists are not the only women watching to see how you run your company.

Also posted on A Voice For Men

Cult-ivating Feminism


The concept of Women’s Studies for the benefit of women has always amused me. I don’t need to research what it means to be a woman. I’ve got a pretty good grip on that subject and I’ve always been completely content defining it for myself.

When I was nine my mother brought home two books by an author named Judy Blume. I got the story about girls on the cusp of puberty and my brother got the one for boys. Gee, Mom, thanks. Half an hour after lights out I heard “pssst” and saw my brother at the other end of the hall.

“When you’re done with your book can we swap?”

Fucking right dude. We both powered our way to a trade off by the end of the next day. I’ve always been more keenly interested in what it’s like to be a man for the simple reason that I’m not one. It’s a more natural curiosity.

To grasp what men experience I would actually need lessons. If I’d been offered Men’s Studies as an option I would have camped out all night so I could be the first to sign up. What kind of a racket is this to offer courses on how to be your own gender? Anyone with  a strong sense of personality who would choose to specialize in the curriculum of themselves should be tested for narcissism. It’s a matter of having true interest in the world around you or being trapped in the universe of yourself, so let’s drop the ruse.

Women’s Studies is a cult developed by feminism and as such is not a legitimate academic field. Women who can’t pass by a mirror without looking at their reflection soon find themselves in a classroom full of other self absorbed recruits ready to be brainwashed into vile and angry advocates of victimhood.

Let the lessons begin.

Students straggle slowly into the lecture hall milling about long enough to assess each others wardrobes. They show off their designer pumps and waggle their backsides before perching on a seat.

Two hundred dollars of luscious hair is flipped over a shoulder and fluorescent teeth smugly flash in contrast to a spray-on tan. Across the aisle from Barbie Girl, Hippy Nature Chick plops down with her make-up free face and thrift store threads. They smile at each other and both think “Bitch.”

As rumours circulate within idle brains the murmuring of loose lips is silenced by metallic caster wheels scraping against the hardwood floor at the front of the room. The professor arrives and directs her assistants as they roll in a large tarp-covered curiosity. There are strange, frightfully feral sounds coming from under the canvas and the wheels grind to a halt at centre stage. Dramatic entrance accomplished. The curtains quiver. Our master of ceremonies launches into her prologue.

“Today marks a new phase in your life. Never again will you see the world in the same way. Unlike the typical platform of the Patriarchal educational system, this course interactively breaks from tradition by encouraging women to become active knowers instead of passive recipients of knowledge.” Her heels click confidently as she strides from one side of the hidden display to the other. The students shift uncomfortably as a guttural growl emanates from beneath the cover.

“Behold!” With great flourish and bravado the professor whisks away the tarp to reveal a naked, snarling woman in a cage. The students gasp. The she-beast rattles the bars and with ferocious untamed eyes issues a primal roar.

Even Nature Girl is afraid.

“This, my innocent and naive friends, is Woman as the male Patriarchy would have us. Caged and oppressed without a shred of dignity or refinement. If not for the efforts of our Feminist foremothers, all of us would be this degraded thing you see before you.”

Spray tan girl starts to cry.

The professor breaks the teacher/student boundaries, reaching out to solidify the sisterhood. She pats the poor child’s shoulder and acknowledges their shared trauma. Instructions follow to gather in fours and conduct a healing group hug. The wild thing in the cage skitters from side to side and tilts her head with bewilderment.

“Men have put this woman in her cage!” The professor proclaims, drawing attention back to the problem at hand as the class returns to their chairs. Her converts nod, damp eyed and supple from their group touch experience. “Thankfully we, as mirrors for each other, can regain our self-respect and choose a better life.” A hand-mirror is produced from inner lab coat pocket and presented to the now whimpering creature behind the bars. Tears roll silently down cheeks as the she-beast screams at the sight of herself and she retreats to the far corner of her cage to shiver in shame. The professor sighs and beckons reassuringly with an outstretched palm. The creature sidles back to the bars and nuzzles against the loving hand that strokes her mussed-up hair into a semblance of order.

As the cooing and petting proceeds a singular penis burdened student who’d been hiding in a dark corner of the classroom tentatively raises his hand. The tender eyes of the professor turn to ice as she whips her gaze around as a spotlight until it settles on his vile imperfection. His hand trembles mid-air and he clears his throat awkwardly.

“Um, excuse me but, didn’t you…”

He falters at the sights of daggers shooting from her eyes but presses on, “…didn’t youput her in the cage?”

Jaws drop as the entire class turns in his direction. The professor raises a finger in case anyone wasn’t sure where they were supposed to be looking and points it directly at the boy’s forehead in a laser beam of loathing.

“That is exactly what the Patriarchy wants you to believe! Haven’t you taken the prerequisite courses?!” Her lab coat flutters as she strides over to stand towering above the young man’s cowering body. “Let me see your transcripts.”

He pats the empty pockets of his jacket unable to comply and begins to question the line of reasoning that led him to enroll in this course. It had seemed like a good idea at the time.

“Just as I suspected. Remove yourself from my classroom this instant!” The professor spins on her heel and dismissively clacks her way back to front stage. The boy quickly fumbles books into his backpack and stumbles his way to the exit. He pauses, trying to make sense of his circumstances.

“But, I mean, how long has she been in that cage? Surely just since this morning.” The words trail from his lips as he realizes his mistake too late.

A hundred rage-filled women pull out their cell phones with a flurry of clicks and whirs. The Twitterverse thrums in anticipation. Digital death drums at his doorstep with each tapping of painted fingernails on touch screen displays. Within seconds his first day of learning about the world of women becomes his last and he slumps away in defeat.

The mood has lifted as the professor restores order to the lecture hall. “This has been an extraordinarily emotional day for us all. Let us spend the rest of the class discussing how to help this poor creature regain her natural environment. Next week I will be giving her a credit card, an IKEA catalogue, and we’ll help her do some online shopping at Macy’s.” The professor beams approvingly at the relieved sighs and uplifted spirits of her new recruits.

End class.

Cults don’t just prey on the weak. They have slick campaigns and convincing literature. They begin with generalizations and constructed scenarios which start within the range of the believable and take you somewhere you’d never have gone had you seen the end goal in advance. Each year of study takes you a heavier footstep down the pink bricked road to radicalization.

Women’s Studies is not a career path. For the same cost as a degree in something that might provide you with an income, they will sell you a point of view. It doesn’t teach you a trade, it indoctrinates you into the feminist world agenda of ensuring it’s own future existence.

You don’t need them, they need you.

These courses do not come at a reduced price for lack of usefulness and the first year of Women’s Studies is designed to ensure you will never question the high fees you are paying to learn nothing.

“The first problem for all of us, men and women, is not to learn, but to unlearn.” ~ Gloria Steinem

Brainwashing works best on an empty mind.

also posted on A Voice For Men