Good job, feminists.
Welcome to the beginning of our end.
Good job, feminists.
Welcome to the beginning of our end.
Here, we don’t think it would happen to us.
We think we are immune from the savagery
of human desperation, human hate, human inhumanity.
How we even define these words: desperation, hate, inhumanity reflect our biased beliefs. These definitions contain nothing of what we have no experience. Not here.
So it is no wonder that we aren’t concerned about what we’re doing to our men. Beginning with our young sons, we have swallowed our good sense. We may one day choke on realizing that we didn’t fail our sons. No, we didn’t fail our brothers and our men. We failed everyone.
We failed our forebears and we failed future generations of people living free from tyranny, free from enslavement to others.
We will fail humanity if we do not acknowledge and end our campaign that may very well become our march to death.
When the very worst happens, when the borders are breeched, when the doors are broken down and the monstrosity of war invites itself to your family’s dinner table, you will understand.
Finally, you will understand that what we need, what all women need, is to live among men that are willing and eager to defend their people. If your children are yet grown, you will understand that what we need, what all of us need, are men that aren’t ‘nice’. We don’t need men that are sensitive, considerate of your needs or cooperative with our demands.
We never needed this.
When the world around goes dark with war, we will need what we have rejected and despised.
When my world is threatened, my home under siege, I want a killer. I want a bad man, a man that is vicious, violent and has blood lust to protect and defend his people, his family, his honor. We should have been raising our sons with both appreciation and respect for their natural aggressions and tendencies to fight. We should have been raising our daughters to keep their egos in under control and to be accountable for their relationships.
We needed to feed the egos of our men, not deprive and starve them by throwing a scrap when we could be bothered to care. We should have never believed the lies.
Instead, we raised our sons to play nice. We raised our sons to be mothers of the children we abandoned to pursue our selfish desires and petty wants. We don’t know what we want. We never considered the possibility that maybe we don’t always think rationally. We never considered for a moment that perhaps the problems we see are problems we created.
No, instead: We medicated our sons. We reduced them to commodities, disposable labor, cheap sex.
They become men that will turn and run away when the enemy is at the door. They still run faster than us, you know. We tried to bring them down to our size, to equalize the differences, and we succeeded in making them equally useless to defend us. The weak, the vulnerable, the very young and the very old have no one to champion them in the face of disaster.
This is our fault. This is the fault of women.
We said we can do anything a man can do. Some even insisted that we can do it better.
We swallowed that lie and we have poisoned the well that would have saved us.
It’s been four full months since the surgery. After years of worsening and weakening decline, today, I know the surgery fixed what was crippling me.
I’m out back, behind the house, down its’ steep slope it sets on, cutting back bramble and vines that are choking out the trees. It’s not dainty work but I haven’t even broken a sweat after climbing and chopping and rolling brush down the hill.
I haven’t been this physically strong in a very long time.
So, I’m feeling pretty grateful and a little bit like I’m a bad ass rocking the dirt, again.
It doesn’t hurt that it’s a gorgeous day here in North Portland.
Tonight, it’s a concert. I was invited to see @2CELLOS
And if you never heard or seen these two Croatian guys on the webs, you should check it out.
I like being out of my head like this.
As always, JudgyBitch has written on a thought provoking topic. And, per usual, I had to take what was supposed to be simple comment and transfer it, here, when it became too wordy. (And, admittedly, it’s probably too wordy as a final blog post, but, I fight that battle incrementally.)
This time the subject includes the phenomenon of women sabotaging other women. Her article focuses primarily on the premise that women heartily support other women that are overweight because this gives them a competitive edge. By creating the belief that being fat is acceptable, the theory goes, those women that are overweight or would lean towards becoming so, will, thereby, reducing their ability to compete in the ‘sexual market place’.
From JudgyBitch’s article:
It always comes down to sexual economics with women, and especially with feminists. Feminism is collective bargaining for women to keep the price of women high. Women used to keep their own prices high when they controlled access to sex, but the sexual revolution destroyed that quite nicely, leaving women bereft of power. Now women are in full out, cut throat competition with one another, while pretending to be part of a sisterhood of love and acceptance.
That’s an interesting idea and one I’ve run across before. It just doesn’t make sense to me because anyone with the ability to read and think understands that obesity is not in any person’s best interest and to think otherwise is simply not rational. But, I can see how women comforting and encouraging other women who are unhappy with their weight could be interpreted as having ulterior motives. It depends on what the message is that they are giving.
That women are vicious to one another, there is no argument. The motive I am not entirely certain is a binary one.
It’s clever. It’s also cruel. No one hates other women quite like women do. And no one hates other women more than a feminist.
I don’t know. Sometimes, I think I dislike women more than the average xx hater and I definitely reserve special disdain for those women that use the system to skirt accountability (today’s feminist). I know exactly what she is referring to and having experienced it first from my feminist 2.0 mother, my response wasn’t to conform to the same behavior but to avoid relationships with women altogether when it wasn’t impossible to do so. And I am unapologetic to that end.
This doesn’t mean that I am inherently any different from other women, because I’m not. What is different is having had the ability and incentive to recognize the reality that exists which contain the ingredients that make poor behavior readily possible and subsequently disciplining oneself to not engage in acting that way. And, I don’t care who you are, I doubt any woman will ever be perfectly successful in this effort.
It is exactly the same for men. They manage their own traits that make them prone to behaviors that they correct for. Whereas theirs may involve physical acts of aggression, ours are centered more around conflating emotional responses to being the same as rational consideration. We tend to first assume whatever we are feeling is true or speaks to something being true. That is simply incorrect and causes all kinds of problems in the world of relationships, parenting, politics and personal efficacy.
So, while it is true that women are susceptible to a host of biologically influenced and socially reinforced behaviors, it is also true that women have the ability to identify the source and manage as any adult would be accountable to do.
But, our society sends strong messages countering this belief and rewards women for acting without integrity. In fact, women are rarely exposed to lessons that teach and reinforce concepts of integrity, duty, honor or valor. We do experience themes of sacrifice, cooperation, friendliness, and compassion. This is just referring to the general societal framework everyone develops within from birth to adulthood. What we receive individually is an entirely random ball of wax.
Speaking to my personal experience with this propensity of many women towards overt and covert hostility, it hasn’t always been possible to altogether, avoid . And in those circumstances involving employment, in-laws, etc., if I wasn’t outright steamrolled, each and every instance required managing for either the aggressors or the covert tactics of the type that includes what is described, in the article, that being the most benign manifestation. I’ve rarely been completely successful
It’s been dialing down as I get older, but I haven’t turned the corner quite yet, so still catch the occasional backhanded compliment or bullshit comment.
Now, I get to walk my 21 and 25 year old daughters through it when they sense something ‘amiss’ with another woman in their lives, whether she is a friend, co-worker or social acquaintance.
Unlike me, both my girls have been outgoing. One is a perpetrator but is still figuring this out and the other has recognized that she wants no part of it. She’s exceptionally physically attractive and attracts immediate female hostility that she doesn’t fully understand, yet, as something that she cannot prevent from occurring, no matter what she does. That’s simply the way it goes. She gets the societal benefits of being attractive, and likewise, bears the costs.
So, I am only able to offer her some words of wisdom such as not expecting reason to work when trying to solve problems created by irrationally driven behavior. And, on the flip side, not to go to the hardware store expecting to buy bread. Their social needs that require a buddy to do female interest things belong in a relationship with a woman, not a husband or boyfriend.
My general disinterest in having female friends is not what would work for my daughters, and that is probably more a function of having had a failed role model who acted egregious enough to cause me to reject the role completely and my individual deficits in social intelligence because of my not being inclined towards socializing any more than I have been obliged to.
As an individual, I happen to have personality traits that aren’t very dependent on socializing. I’m reserved, pragmatic and I spend my time in my head no matter what I’m doing. So, when I need a “girlfriend” type of support, I hire a therapist. I’ve also never been chatty and similarly, I tend not to enjoy being engaged too long with chatty people. Women, in general, talk more than men do, in my opinion. My relative silence creates immediate awkwardness with women that, again, I am not apologetic about.
So, as far as my daughters are concerned, the goal is making sure they can discern who to befriend and then to practice sharing girlfriend things with their girlfriends and to vigilantly resist the temptation to make the men in their lives substitute girlfriends.
When women insist that men serve as the source of what we would expect from other women, those same women wind up wondering why they aren’t attracted to their man, anymore, after they’ve, in effect, emasculated him. So, I don’t want my girls to have that kind of crazy interfering with their having successful relationships with the men they will probably one day marry. (If the feminist social politics don’t fuck that possibility up altogether beforehand, that is.)
But, the bottom line is I got the same potential crazy making juju. To illustrate, my writing is probably so verbose to compensate for how terse I am when speaking. All that talking I’m not doing has to be counterbalanced, somehow. I am a woman, after all, and some things are just the nature of the beast.
My grandfather, William McKendry, passed away 29 years ago, today.
This photo was taken after Grandpop came home from WWII where he served in the Philippines. He brought back two souvenirs from the war: a bullet that was later removed and malaria. He drove an army ambulance, picking up the wounded on the front line.
Home, Grandpop could fix anything. He was a man who would only purchase American made cars. He preferred Chevrolets. I spent so many hours over many years standing next to him quietly in the garage watching him work his magic under the hood. He and I shared a similar reserved nature. Neither of us liked to be inside the house. Both of us liked to be busy doing something all the time.
Grandpop was my model of male behavior. Because my mother often left me with my grandparents for months or years at a time without warning, he was my anchor of stability.
He loved me and I adored him. Almost 30 years later, and still, the tears come when I think about how much I miss him. He was a man of his word and his integrity was unquestionable. He was a hero. For his country. For his grand daughter.
I love you, Grandpop. Thank you for everything you gave.