Category Archives: misandry

Fear and Loathing in Secondary School, Part 1:



This is a guest post from Moiret Allegiere.  He has a great deal to say about our plight as men in today’s insane misandrist world. You can find his blog here.

My first inklings that life was a dismally unfair thing came in a blast during my years of secondary education. It was during those years, as the pre-pubescent freedom of childhood-bliss flew away to be replaced by puberty, hormones, madness and perpetual crisis; as my boyish body first manifested clear signs of manhood, that the first properly understood symptoms from the infection of feminism showed its face in classrooms as clear and as brittle as glass.

Of course; the signs were there that the girls were preferred and protected by teachers prior to this. Yet – in the prepubescent bliss of childhood, we are close to sex-less as no sexual characteristics are on display. At the very least not obviously so. The most obvious signs of sex and gender and the differences therein came from the mouths of us boys and girls who, in our childish innocence, believed the opposing side to have cooties. This made for some good moments and fond memories of chemical gender-warfare, as both sides did their very best to spread their cooties into the other camp and so infect them. In order to create spies willing to divulge the strategic and tactical secrets of the other side so that the war could be won and ended once and for all, I suppose.

Looking at it in hindsight and with that peculiar gleam of nostalgia that tend to come post-thirtieth birthday, it is clear that this was nothing more than the onset of puberty, the moment where we understood something which we could not properly articulate at the time – that is; the other side is as intriguing and fascinating as it is terrifying and kinda icky, and if I could only understand where the fuck these strange and conflicting emotions stem from I might be able to process the information properly. Besides; I never yet realised how beautiful her hair was and what in the hell does all this mean; those strange butterflies, that weird skipping of my heart, that strange and primal attraction? Better punch her in the shoulder and run away, laughing. Boys will be boys.

And so, fare-thee-well innocence, welcome confusion, welcome inner turmoil. Welcome puberty. Welcome gender-war tacticians in the shape of teachers speaking in twisted tongues, teaching all about the serpent cult of feminism. The oracle and the spectacle, the feminist ideology, the -ism told in twos and threes and twisted tattle-tales. Not as yet mentioned by name, but lying there still, coiled at the feet of the altar in front of the dismally black black-hole black-board where nimble spinning tongues and fingers spun nimbly spinning half-truths or full lies spat into our open mouths and minds that lapped it up as truth-without-a-doubt; an altar upon which we were placed as a sacrifice to the -ism, to remodel and restructure our biology and our sexuality as the horrid beasts of masculinity that we were then on the verge of becoming.

And here I find myself caught in a crossroad, with many a road to follow. Figuring out which road to walk down is a difficult one. I could express the weird confusion felt from schools telling me that what I experienced within during puberty was a social construct; that what I knew to do in order to express my blossoming masculinity was not something innate to my nature, but something learned from this society wherein all things gender is a construct and we are all blank slates.

I could explain the further confusion created as the teachers all insisted that the girls matured faster and better than the boys, even if all things gender is a social construct and so – really – there should be no differences in the level of maturation where the brains of boys and girls are concerned.

Not to mention that, if all things are a social construct, as we were told, then maturation is also a social construct and not anything to take seriously. Or that this train of thought further whisper to me that the only thing these statements meant, when taken to their logical conclusion, is quite simple: gender is a social construct. We are all blank slates. The girls mature faster than the boys. Even when maturation is also a social construct. The schools have chosen the feminine as the norm, as the way to measure maturity and the proper way to teach and to learn, in other words… This difference of maturation, this apparently incredible evidence of the moral, intellectual and emotional superiority of the girls were mentioned as often as possible, beat into our adolescent minds to make sure that we understood and remembered this so-called fact.

I could pick out single instances, single anecdotes of obvious preferential treatment of the girls – to the detriment of boys – and tell them in full. I have many of these anecdotes, many memories stored away of very clear discriminatory behaviour from the schools and from the teachers, that no-one gave a fuck about seeing as it was the boys in entirety that was singled out for social execution and shame and not the girls. See, I am cursed with a very good long-term memory and a terrible short-term memory. Might have to turn this into a series of sort. We’ll see.

…or I could try and explain how this dark cloud of shame that was forced down over the heads of the boys manifested in me personally.

…I could tell tales of how feminism wormed its way into the girls of my class and class-room-fancy, turning quite a few of them into footsoldiers for the explosive feminist revolution wielding such ridiculous arguments – hung up in the corridors of our schools come international women’s day as hand-made posters, funnily enough with loads of glitter and pink as I recall – that a female nurse earns less than a male doctor, and that this is a clear sign of gendered discrimination.

I am not making this shit up.

Opposition to this nonsense, this clear political activism was met with protest from teachers and students alike, making it very clear which opinion was OK to hold and which was not. Even when the argument presented on the preposterous posters was not one of logic or of reason, even when the argument presented made no sense at all. Disobedience is not allowed. One must not go against the holy grain and coffee-stain of feminism, lest one be shunned and publicly shamed for doing so by teachers wielding the magical double-speak staff that says that all voices shall be heard, as long as it is the voices of the girls that scream feminism in your ears and immature minds that are heard.

I remember one particular instance in a physical education class. One of our resident “mean girls” – and you all knew this girl growing up, I fucking guarantee it – the queen bitch, the bully and tin-pot tyrant, Ms. Queen bee supreme who looked down her nose on everyone and treated everyone like shit if they were not within her immediate circle of friends, buzzing around her magnificent form and shape as she wreaked bloody havoc on everything and everyone… yeah, you know the girl, you know the trope, you know the stereotype. The tropish stereotype is there for a reason, shining bright in every single high-school comedy or drama we have ever seen, just as true and magnificent as are the jocks that surround her and beckon to her every wish and demand.

It just so happens that one of her victims of perpetual bullying and mean-girl ways and vices had finally had enough and struck back. Not in any physical way, gentlemen as we were indoctrinated into being – one should never hit a girl, no matter what, you know – no, he had responded in kind to her snarling lips and on-going, for at least a year, systematic bullying with a vicious insult. I can not remember what she said that triggered his comeback, nor can I remember what he said. I was not present at the moment. No doubt, it was trivial – as these things go. Yet, in the vice-grip of confusing puberty, as we all know, nothing is ever trivial.

In this P.E. class, our entire class was made to stand to attention and listen as Ms. Queen Bee supreme stood behind the teacher, crying. Obviously, the tin-pot tyrant’s first instinct at opposition was to run crying to our teacher, playing victim. And we all had to stand there and listen as our teacher confronted the one who had done nothing but reply in kind; berating him and telling us all how horrible he had acted, how there were limits – even in hell – as our teacher, who of course was a woman, put it. DARVO-ing is learned quickly and it is encouraged brutally.

Absolutely astonishing, I thought then and I think now. If it was not made evident prior to this, it was bloody obvious after this that the girls were untouchable, no matter what they did. And I looked at the face of the one who had replied in kind as he was dumbstruck, completely aware that whatever he said, he would come out the loser and the scapegoat and that she – the bully and the instigator – now stood free to do what ever the hell she wanted to do and he could do nothing, nor could he expect justice served from those who were supposed to serve justice at our school. The stacks were stacked against him, as they were stacked against all the boys for the single crime of being nothing but boys, for the crime of becoming men. As expected, this incidence also let loose the ever-present shaming of the boys and their lack of maturity. For some reason, this was clear-cut evidence of the moral and emotional superiority of the girls; of their incredible maturity. Or the teacher just wanted an excuse to brow-beat us boys a little more for her own personal bias and satisfaction. Which I suspect to be the case, as you can always count on a dyed-in-the-wool feminist to use any opportunity to go on a petulant tirade about her most preferred topic – that is, the evil that men do.

There were many instances of this nature. The ideology of feminism shone and shimmered and enveloped all of our school and all of our schooling within its web and in its cocoons.

I remember being yelled at by a female pupil for having the gall – the audacity – of being born at the eight of march, which is international women’s day, and about as much fun as one can imagine.

That I – a foul male – would dare celebrate my birthday at this day of all women was an affront to the holy forces of fragile femininity; just that I was born on that most fateful day was enough to pull her g-string over her head and deliver an atomic mental wedgie. Such a terrible act on my part; such a display of toxic masculinity this, to dare be born on that most hallowed day! Of course, she was nothing but a bitch and an insufferable cunt caught just as much in the confusing mud of puberty as I was. But she was upheld and guided by the primal rage of feminism taught in school. And that is where the problem lies. I would not remember this as clearly now, all these years later, were it not for that fact. This was learned behaviour; accepted behaviour within the walls of our indoctrination-chambers that told her and taught her that she could act like this, with impunity, as long as the victim of her fury and her frenzy was a boy, was becoming a man, was someone who was not a woman or becoming a woman.

Yet, it was during sexual education that the searing misandry was made the most evident. Or, I should say, the most blatant. For beneath that roof and between the scarred and broken thighs of our indoctrination chamber, the ugliness and brute simplicity of male sexuality was made clear to us, as was the beauty and divine complexity of female sexuality. In a flash and a heat and what could quite possibly be referred to as a series of temper tantrums by our teacher, men and their lack of care and compassion during sex, as well as their lack of knowledge of the female body and sacred female orgasm was brought us as communion wafers; foul smelling pieces of bullshit served on a silver platter that we were made to swallow whole and make part of our one and our all. Where male sexuality was concerned, it was so simplistic – apparently – as to be waved away in a token hand-gesture; pull her, prod there, ejaculate and finish. Men, you see, did not necessarily have any manner of emotional connection to the more-or-less willing victims of their simian sexuality. Quite the contrary; ours was a philosophy of pump-and-dump. As opposed to women, whose sexuality was driven by emotional connection and nothing more and nothing less.

Sexual education was nothing but female sexual liberation and male sexual incarceration in front of the holy black-board, behind a make-shift altar of prophylactics and planned parenthood. The birds and the bees and how pregnancy works and all that jazz was mentioned, of course, as though it had to be done quickly and be done with. The purely biological reasons for sexuality, for fornication – that is – the urge to procreate – and how all that stuff actually works was mentioned briefly, and then forgotten in the rush to whip the boys with the nine-tailed cat of sexual shame for our simpering sexual simplicity.

For, you see, it was made out to be the fault of men – that is the patriarchy – that women and girls didn’t masturbate as frequently as boys and men did, that women and girls didn’t know their own bodies as well as they – apparently – should by that point in their lives.

And I can not help but think that maybe these poor and pitiful victims of a lack of masturbation would flick the bean with more regularity were they not told that their bodies and their sexuality was something sacred, something hallowed that was not to be given away or touched willy-nilly, but something to be savoured and treated as some peculiar sacrament.

Were they not told that sex is given to men and done to women, but told the simple truth of the matter: that fucking is one of our most basic primal instincts and that sex is – at the same time – the most profound and the most simple pleasure of life.

See, it sounds very traditional, does it not, that sex is something done to women by men and given to men by women? It is a very gender-stereotypical view of things; men can not control themselves and women must be protected from men. Would a chaperon be a good idea, perhaps and perchance? It is a tale as old as time, and here it was presented as something new, something profound, something liberating for women. It boggles the mind. But, it is as these things are: those who do not understand history are doomed to repeat it. It is the same-old-same-old packaged and presented as something new. Same shit, different day.

I am no prude, and I have no issues with talking about sex and sexuality. Quite the contrary – I find it to be a very interesting topic of discussion. One of the reasons for this is that I find it incredibly funny how much stock we put in it, how much of a protected and sheltered thing this very basic urge, need and drive is. For all manner of birth control has made it so that fucking is now a frivolous pursuit of pleasure more than it is a need and drive to procreate. As an aside, I would very much like to state that this does not bother me. Not in the least. The thing is; as odd and weird as it is, turning it into pleasure first and pregnancy second has made it even more protected, even more holy. Despite all our ham-fisted talks about sexual liberation and sexual revolution and what-nots and what-alls, we seem to be more neurotic in regards to sex and sexuality now than we have been for quite some time.

Almost as though one would be inclined to believe that a meaningless and pointless pursuit of immediate pleasure in one-night-stands and topless tinder-dates with no strings attached and no responsibilities lined up poisoned the well some and made for some hell-hath-no-fury-scenarios, where a lover scorned or a lover’s regret the day after a frivolous session of in-the-moment fornication made for feelings that were not shared in kind and a further shaming of male sexuality for doing just as his date did.

Men are terribly irresponsible when having no-strings-attached sex.

Women are not; they are liberated.

And if both man and woman are drunk and have drunken sex, the man is a rapist and the woman is raped. And the world is such a weird and peculiar place that confusion does not even cover it. For sooth, I do fear, sire, that we may have over-complicated matters to the point of complete and utter absurdity! I do fear that we have lost the plot ages back, that we have descended into guttural chaos and base-level desires that are never fulfilled even when we are told that this is what is needed to fulfil it. We are living in a Monty Python sketch, where one absurdity is explained with a higher level of absurdity. It is layers upon layers of absurdity, and I would be laughing my swinging dick and pendulous balls off, were I not quietly weeping in the corner. But I am getting better, I swear. I only break into hysterical fits of crying and babbling three times a week these days.

Anyhow; in those sexual education classes the boys were shamed for the girls not masturbating and not knowing their own bodies. This despite none of us knowing their bodies either, and should we wish to know their bodies we were beasts with only one thing on our minds. Not to mention that the same shame of not knowing a man’s body was not laid in the palms and prickly nipples of the girls. Odd, that. As though men are the ones who are supposed to run the show, from initiating dates to initiating sex. Or begging for it, more like…

And still; wanting sex, as a male, was a horrible thing and wanting sex as a woman was not a horrible thing, but a natural thing. Though the sex wanted by women was an emotional thing and the sex wanted by men was a primal thing, a thing of domination and subjugation. It was a confusing message sent and delivered. Sex was nothing to be ashamed of, yet it was at the very same time something to be deeply ashamed of.

We were told how incredibly complex female sexuality was, and that men would never properly understand it. Of course, the complexity of female sexuality was the complete opposite of male sexuality; simplistic enough to warrant barely a mention in front of the dismal black-board.

And were it mentioned, it was always with the barely-concealed snarl of wild mockery and disgust. This, in turn, rendered every god-damned unwanted erection a source of shame. And unwanted erections in those days of puberty happened once every ten minutes. You could set your bloody clock to it. There was nothing but spontaneous erections and a longing for some privacy and a few minutes to jerk off and be done with it. That is – if the erection came as a result of sexual desires, which it did not always do. Nor does it always do so. This is something lacking in common knowledge, as I understand it. Considering the mangled menagerie of feminist thought-and-action, an erect penis is nothing but sexual and shows nothing but sexual desire in the moment. Even when it is not. Of course; a lack of erection necessarily must mean a lack of sexual interest and something the woman should be insulted by. And the man be ashamed of. Just as he should be ashamed of his erection, he should also be ashamed of his lack of erection. The penis is there for the woman, and that is that. Objectification ho?

This is where sexual education is lacking, in their brow-beating of the male. For spontaneous erections were never mentioned or properly explained. Not as such. Erections meant nothing but the male being ready and willing to go, and that was that. It was a means to an end. For all the god-damned yammering and clamouring and claims that men don’t know shit about women’s bodies, women sure as hell know next-to-nothing about men’s bodies. Evidenced in the absolute lack of knowledge as to how erections function. Or how they do not function, for that matter. For, you know, a man can not be forced to penetrate. If he had an erection, he must have wanted it. This is the argument presented, time and bloody time again, to explain how a man can not be raped by a woman. I had a girlfriend once who honestly believed I could get an erection at will, just as if I were flexing a muscle. She was flabbergasted that this was not the case.

As much as I do believe that any sexual partner ought to know their way around their partner’s body, this is not something that should only apply to men. Yet, here we are, living in a culture where men are shamed for not knowing diddly-squat about the female body by women that do not even know that an erection does not equal sexual desire on part of the man, nor that a lack of erection does not equal a lack of sexual desire. It is far more complex than what these cretins believe.

And I lay a lot of the blame for this on the lack-luster sexual education in schools whose main focus in my day was the deification of female sexuality and the vilification of male sexuality; whose main train of thought was to teach the boys that their natural sexual urges was something to be ashamed of and to teach the girls that theirs was not. And as much as I agree with the latter, it is something that should apply to both or none. There should be no shame in sexuality, be you a man or a woman, there should not be any shame attached to wanting to fuck. Yet there were and there was, as long as it was sent in the direction of the boys.

Which is as evident now as fucking is natural, given the ongoing shaming of all things masculine from the girls and boys who grew up with this message imprinted in their developing minds and personalities and now only parrot the points they never questioned or dared looked behind and beyond, to repeat the mantra and carry on with the shaming and the glorious cuntural revolution of the feminist hive-mind; the breaking down and dismantling of all things masculine. The cloud of shame hung over the heads of the boys for which they must repent all their lives, bend their necks and their heads, kiss her ring and make amends for being such lustful and primitive primates as we are.

And this – this shaming, this perpetual demonizing and vilification of men and of masculinity – is presented as something that is supposed to help boys and to help men grow beyond the confines of traditional masculinity. Which is what, exactly? That depends on the feminist in question and the heat of the moment. But that don’t matter at all, the moment one is able to understand that nature plays more of a part than nurture does in how men act and how men behave, in how women act and how women behave.

This is not to say that nurture does not play a part. Because of course it does. We can not help but be a product of that which surround us as we grow up. We can not help but be infused with the ideas and the lessons we learn. We are a product of our surroundings. To a certain extent.

Yet; to claim that it is only nurture and not nature is to go against basic biology. It is to look at the state of nature, to look at the behaviour of animals and state that humanity is above and beyond that.

The problem of boys and men is not that they are boys and men, is not that they have been told to be boys and to be men. The problem of boys and men is that they are not being told that it is OK for them to be boys and to be men. It is that we are living in a culture that has not a kind word stored away anywhere for boys, for men or for masculinity. We are living in a culture in which we are told and taught that masculinity is something that must be done away with, that it is behaviour that is toxic, that it is learned behaviour that must be dismantled. And in its place the feminine shall thrive. In the guise of something gender-neutral. For feminism have us all shackled and in chains, have infested and infected our schools and our societies to such an extent that their philosophy is considered the norm and the guiding light. By their hands and their hands alone, the masculine shall be dismantled and the gender-neutral take hold. Just a god-damned shame, then, that what they propose to be gender neutral is remarkably feminine and that femininity is supposed to be some sort of saving grace for boys and for men who want nothing but to be free to be boys and to be men just as we fucking are.

Moiret’s book – Howling at a Slutwalk Moon, a collection of previous blog posts:
Vol 1 Paperback: https://www.amazon.com/dp/107571074X
Vol 1 Kindle: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07TZTPDPR
Vol 2 Paperback: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1075714184
Vol 2 Kindle: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07TZR25NL
Vol 1 Illustrated Paperback: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1075717094
Vol 2 Illustrated Paperback: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1075723078

Lies and Slander in the Domestic Violence Industrial Complex:

Illustration: “Healing”, 2019, Moiret Allegiere

This is a guest post from Moiret Allegiere.  He has a great deal to say about our plight as men in today’s insane misandrist world. You can find his blog here.

Stumbling through the dark corners of the internet one fell morning, attempting to do research on the subject of domestic violence interspersed now and then with one of my dogs barking at some odd happening outside every two minutes, I crawled through the muddiest sludge of the world wide wonder-web to exhume this piece of preposterous writing: https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=2790940 .

Within this piece of writing, aptly titled: The Feminist Case for Acknowledging Women’s Acts of Violence, we find clear and concise evidence in the form of them admitting it that the feminist movement, or the women’s movement or whatever label one wishes to ascribe to it, built the domestic violence movement upon lies at worst and blatant misrepresentations at best. Of course, this being a feminist movement it goes without saying that the entirety of their hogwashed bullshittery is based upon either outright lies or snivelling misrepresentations of clear facts presented with the most serpentine of forked tongues, quivering lips and trembling forms, saying in a childlike voice designed to mimic the most awesome form of Neoteny: Please, I am such a frail and powerless woman – help me, big strong man whose strength and protection I don’t need but will manipulate at want when I need it. Even if I don’t need it, really.

I am not going to divulge the information within this incredibly illuminating piece of writing in great depth or detail in this particular ramble. I think this fantastic piece deserves a ramble all on its own, to go through it in such depths as I am capable of, being neither an academic nor a scholar. Now, being an academic clearly doesn’t mean much in this terrible post-apocalyptic haze of the current year. This should be self-evident by the sluggish beasts residing within the overcrowded halls of academia. So: rather than delving into this paper in depth here and now, I will take a look at a few proper studies on intimate partner violence and see how the data contained therein correspond to this amazing evidence of feminist skewed statistics and lies most worthy of the immense judgement and subsequent thunder of our grand societal ban-hammer.

Because this piece of writing, gentlemen and ladies, is of such incredible importance to understand the way our ramshackle societies view instances of intimate partner violence through the black and white, tried, true and incredibly faulty lens of male perpetrators and female victims that I can hardly contain my glee in stumbling across it. Even if I read it with a certain anger boiling in my throat, gut and groin. In the pages of this tome of inadvisedly applied “knowledge”, it becomes painfully clear that the feminist movement combined with the domestic violence movement cares not in the least for the victims of domestic violence, be they male or female. It becomes evident – by the constant reference to the “movement” – that it is the feminist movement that matters, the women’s movement. Not facts, not truth, not reason and not the individual victims of intimate partner violence. The movement above all.

The serpent cult is alive and well.

…And only the cult matter in the grand scheme and schism of things.

It should have been common knowledge from the 1970’s at least that intimate partner violence is not a gendered issue. Once again, I would like to refer to the work of that fabulous Loving Grandmother to Us All, Erin Pizzey and her tremendous work in regards to family violence. I recommend – once again – that everyone read her story, listen to her speeches and marvel at the treatment she received at the hands of irate feminists who had an agenda to push that was driven not by any concerns for victims of domestic violence, but by a concern for their own movement, their own dogma and their own hydra-headed serpent god of false tongues and venomous fangs. She concluded, already back then, that intimate partner violence was reciprocal in most cases, built on escalation and a pattern of abuse that was generational from both sides of the dysfunctional family.

She quickly learned that the women in her shelters were just as, if not more, violent than the men from whom they fled. And so saw fit to build a shelter for abused men as well, for which she was disowned by her feminist cohorts, harassed and harangued and bullied until she had to flee the country.

Obviously, this is a condensed version of the story.

All this came to be merely because she wished to actually help those who suffered instead of pushing an agenda that was as blatantly false as it was completely monochrome in its approach to the problem.

Women are angels and saints and men are the devils lurking at the outskirts of our civilization, ready, at a moments notice, to wreak bloody havoc on all that we hold dear. That is to say: on all that women hold dear. For, should we believe the feminist dogma, men can not hold anything dear but terror, tyranny, violence, beer and rape. Preferably at the same time.

Now, closing in on fifty years later, researchers are attempting to view the problem of intimate partner violence through new and fresh lenses. Gazing at it, as it were, from a vantage point not driven by ideology and subjective opinion, but on facts and objective observations.

Imagine now, if the powers that be had listened to Erin Pizzey when she first began speaking truthfully and honestly on certain matters having to do with dysfunctional family matters. Should-haves, would-haves and could-haves are not great tools for intellectual quests, I will have to agree. And resentment and bitterness helps little in furthering anything. But this fraud and sham of a movement has done such tremendous damage where intimate partner violence is concerned that I can not help it. This new research is not anything new. Not as such. And that angers my blood and boils my brain, slowly reducing it to snark and frustration, anger and resentment.

Think of what could have been done to help both male and female victims, as well as their children. Imagine how much work could have been laid down to stop the generational cycle of abuse – to break the vicious circle of replaying past traumas in ones own family of origin.

Instead, the domestic violence movement saw fit to ensnare society within its tangled web of feminist patriarchy-theory and gibbering nonsense, painting men as the perpetrators and axe-wielding maniacs of immense power and violence. That it was the subjugation of women at the hands of both men and the state that caused intimate partner violence, and that it was men and only men who were violent both within and without the family, given the authority to do so by the nebulous and never-seen forces of the tyrannical patriarchy, the reptilian illuminati-annunaki of the feminist tin-foil-hat wearing swashbucklers of truth and glory filtered through mass-hysteria and quaint quantities of hysterical ovary-acting worthy of a hysterectomy or two.

Driven now by a longing for facts and for the feminist nonsense-mongers to remove their stranglehold on the discourse where intimate partner violence is concerned, we – as a society – need to wipe our faultily prescribed myopic lenses and put actual prescription glasses in place to view these dysfunctional family matters in an objective light, not tainted by ideologues who care for the movement and the goals of the movement, replacing the needs of the actual victims and sufferers in the process.

And so, new research floats to the top of the stagnant pool that has been the discourse for decades. From the septic tank of feminist-infused fuckery that has dominated the discourse, rises a noxious gas that may now be lit aflame and blow the whole thing up where the way we view family violence is concerned.

For: what should matter – what should always have mattered – is lending help to the individual victims first and foremost, disregarding the gendered view that feminism has put in place. Which they so clearly admit to have put in place. Secondly, the root cause of family violence should be understood so that the cycle of abuse may be broken. In order to understand it, one has to admit to and understand what both Warren Farrel and Erin Pizzey have been saying for decades; that damaged people damage people, and gender be damned. Gender should not factor into it. Especially not in these societies which we inhabit in which the claim is that gender never matters. Except when it does, of course. And when it does, it is always when it may in some way, shape or form supposedly help women. It is tempting to say that the root causes should be the first thing that matters. But that would then be done without lending help to individual victims in their immediate need. By lending help to the individual first and foremost, the root cause may be discovered and removed as one would remove a tumour.

It becomes glaringly obvious that their “containment” as they put it in the first paper linked, of female offenders and male victims has done a great disservice, not only to the men who have fallen victim to intimate partner violence, but to any-and-all attempt to grab the serpent by its tail and so refuse it to become the Ourobouros, perpetuating its cycle of abuse through generations of families uncounted. By pushing to remove female offenders, they have willingly allowed the snake to go uncaught. They have driven wedges ever further into the fabrics of our societies, into the trust and co-operation between men and women and sat fire to the entirety of the family dynamic. By their own admittance, they have neglected to catch the serpent, they have willingly destroyed the nuclear family and given birth to an industrial complex known vaguely as the domestic violence movement in which male victims – as we shall see soon enough – are not believed, are shunned, ridiculed, often arrested in place of their abuser and removed from their own home. For being beat and abused by their spouse.

All in the name of “equality”; that fantastic term that means everything and nothing all at once, depending upon the view of the feminist at the moment, depending on the position of the moon, depending on whether or not Uranus is aligned with the swinging cock of Mars to be sodomized at a moments notice and so forth and so on.

In the feminist dictionary, words do not mean what you think they mean. They change and they alter and they evolve all the time within the framework of their ideology, as whimsical and fluctuating as anything ever could be. And so, the joke lies there and I must use it: “At the flimsy will and whim of a woman”.

Thank you.

I’ll be here all week.

These are the jokes, people!

***

Looking on another study now, and of course I need to put in an addendum here – I am always a bit careful when looking at studies like this, given that I am not an academic and as such not all that versed in traversing these kinds of studies – this study is titled Differences in Frequency of Violence and Reported Injury Between Relationships With Reciprocal and Nonreciprocal Intimate Partner Violence. https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC1854883/ .

In this study, they analysed data on young adults aged 18-28 years in the US. The results showed that almost 24% of all relationships they looked at had some violence. Just about half of these were cases of reciprocal violence. In cases were the violence was not reciprocal women were the perpetrators in more than 70% of the cases. That is quite a lot, if I am to be honest. More than the feminist hive-mind and various do-goodie virtue-signallers would ever admit to. This does not matter to these people, though, as they will hold forth as arguments that this does not matter due to the fact that male perpetrators are more likely to inflict injury than are female perpetrators. If I understood the study properly, however, instances of reciprocal violence was more likely to result in actual injury than were instances of non-reciprocal violence.

This was found to be regardless of the gender of the perpetrator. I found this to be very interesting when taking into consideration that the study also tell us that “Reciprocity was associated with more frequent violence among women”. From my understanding of this quote, women were the instigators more often than men in cases of reciprocal violence. Thus leading the men therein to reply in kind. Given the greater muscle-mass and bone density of men in general, and the lesser muscle-mass and bone density of women in general, I do not find it all that surprising that women suffer injuries more in cases of reciprocal violence. It would, perhaps, be a good idea to not attempt to beat someone bigger and stronger than oneself.

Understanding that boys and men have been told since time immemorial that they should never – ever – hit a girl or a woman, no matter the circumstances, it is little wonder that the sympathies of society at large go to the woman in these scenarios, never-minding that she may very well have been the instigator. I think it would be prudent to also keep in mind the probability that people in these kinds of relationships where reciprocal violence occur are more than likely damaged people who keep replaying the same scenarios time and again, drawn to each other by a kind of mutual and subconscious desire for destruction and self-destruction, feeding into the generational cycle of abuse from ages past. Re-playing what they learned at the hands and feet of parents for all eternity. I can not imagine a worse doom than this.

The study also tell us that “the percentage of relationships in which there was reciprocal partner violence ranged from 45% to 72%”. Further evidence, then, that reciprocal violence in highly dysfunctional relationships and families is the norm more than it is not. Kinda ruins the pictures we have been painted and presented for ages now of the stereotypical wife-beating man; a drunkard and a brute with violence encoded in his DNA, allowed by both society and the patriarchy, weird deep-state shadow government that it is. A faulty image handcrafted by feminist ideologues whose interests and passions are to maintain this stereotype more than it is to solve the problem. Because solving the problem would mean that they would have to admit – as they have done in the first paper linked – that women are also violent, that men are also victims, and that violent relationships are more often than not a two-way street where there is no clear victim/perpetrator dynamic to be used in furthering an agenda.

And the agenda is also something they would then have to admit to; burying facts for sake of their ideological convenience and the advancement of the movement, the movement being, at the moment, in a state of siege as more and more people are questioning the societal narrative which we have been spoon-fed for decades; their toxin forced down our throats and injected into our veins from powerful institutions of education, mass-media and more.

This state of siege, I assume, is the main cause and reason for the first paper linked – the fear of loosing their stranglehold on the conversation, the debate and the topic forcing them to change tactics so as not to be shown as the bigoted and ideologically possessed and blinded serpents that they are.

There is this radical notion that has been with me, you see, part of my world-view for all my life, based as much on personal observations as it is on objective analysis, that both men and women are capable of tremendous good as well as tremendous bad. That is to say: women are just as capable as men. And men are just as capable as women. For good. And for evil. This goes in stark opposition to the dominant cultural narrative of our societal psychosis – that men are evil and women are good by default. An awfully traditional view of things, one would have to admit.

The study further states that “In fact, men in relationships with reciprocal violence were reportedly injured more often (25.2%) than were women in relationships with non-reciprocal violence (20%); this is important as violence perpetrated by women is often seen as not serious.”

Gee Whiz! I wonder why it is not seen as serious. Could it possibly be due to the massive influence from the feminist movement in regards to this, I wonder, I ponder, I think and I consider as I sip my coffee and listen to the soothing blast beats and throaty screeching of black metal of the foulest and meanest sort? Note also, that I take my coffee as black and soulless as my metal. It helps with the anger, releases the venom and soothes the mind something fierce. It also wires me up magnificently.

…Could this possibly also have something to do with the gynocentric nature of our species, wherein women are to be protected and as such are given excuses and quite a bit of leeway in regards to the abuse they may inflict upon their spouse and their children? It is a meme at this point, but I think it wise to repeat it here: women’s act of violence prompts us to discuss matters of mental health. And it prompts us to manufacture excuses. Such as that she was abused, either as a child by her father or by her spouse, which forced her to carry out her acts of abuse and violence. Men’s violence, on the other hand, prompts us to demonize all men, telling all men that they need to take responsibility for ending this, starting with looking at themselves in the mirror. It also sparks discussions on toxic masculinity and other such nonsense. When men are violent, it is because they are men. When women are violent, it is either because of men or because of mental health issues, urging us to feel sympathy for her and give her understanding.

What a beautiful shell of a world we inhabit. The post-apocalyptic wasteland is nothing like what I was lead to believe through the movies I grew up on.

Were I not cautiously optimistic, I would have turned into a raging misanthrope by this point in my life. Better to channel that rage not unto humanity as a whole, but onto ideologies that purposefully and cleverly have taken control of the discourse, have tied a noose around the necks of our societies and our civilization, have swarmed their way into our collective consciousness as the truth-speakers, the enlightened and empathetic ones seeking only to establish gender equality, despite proven to be filthy, rotten, tongue-tied-and-twisted liars time and again.

I think it wise to end this part of the ramble with another quote from the study in question, which makes it easy for me to segway into the next segment of my incessant rambling: “Regarding reporting biases, there has been much discussion of whether there are differences in reported IPV by the gender of the reporter. A meta-analysis of the reliability of the conflict tactics scale concluded that there is evidence of under-reporting by both genders, and that under-reporting may be greater for men.”

Small wonder, that, as men are not believed more often than not. Small wonder, that, when men are ridiculed by the forces supposedly put in place to help victims of domestic violence. Of course, in light of the glorious feminist revolution, victims of domestic violence automatically mean “women”. As such, close-to all resources available are merely there for female victims. This based on the false belief that only men are violent, only women are victims, for ever and ever, hail Dworkin, praise feminism, eternal glory be to the collective, amen.

The last study to gaze upon is also the one I think is of the most interest. It is titled “The Help-seeking Experiences of Men Who Sustain Intimate Partner Violence: An Overlooked Population and Implications for Practice” and can be found here: https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC3175099/ .

As one would assume, given the title of the study, it looks on the experiences of men when seeking help because of domestic violence. Unsurprising to any who have delved into the weird and wacky post-red-pill world, but probably surprising, bordering on unbelievable to any who have not, the study show that men experience barriers when calling domestic violence hotlines. It contains some very interesting quotes from men who have been foolish enough to attempt to seek help and understanding from the resources available. I will look mainly on their quotes, as the stories of men who suffer intimate partner violence are so often neglected and never told.

Also – I would like to make it clear that I do not use the word “foolish” lightly. Nor do I use it as a slur against the men who attempted to seek help from the resources available. I use it to define – to underline – the severity of the issue. I use the word “foolish” for the simple reason that, as the world and the web in which it is ensnared stand, it is a foolish and futile endeavour. This is due to the domestic violence industry being so tainted, so poisoned, by the might of the feminist industrial complex that one would be hard-pressed to find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy this side of the good part of Star Wars. As this quote from a man contacting a domestic violence agency would attest to:

They didn’t really listen to what I said. They assumed that all abusers are men and said that I must accept that I was the abuser. They ridiculed me for not leaving my wife, ignoring the issues about what I would need to do to protect my 6 children and care for them.

…but it is not about hating, shaming or blaming men, you must understand. It is all to do with equal treatment of the genders, as the feminist furies would have you believe, with all their piss-pottery and slack-jawed yodelling. Because those who hate men are not real feminists, ya know. And they don’t like sugar on their porridge, either. Strange, then, that these feminists who are not the real feminists are the ones who have decided the rules and law of the land where the mistreatment of male victims of intimate partner violence are concerned. The not real feminists, apparently, are the ones in control of the movement, are the ones who control the discourse, change the laws, neglect male victims and their children and do nothing but further the narrative that women can do no bad and men can do no good. The real feminists, however, are the ones that do not do this, the ones who do not wield any power or influence within the movement which they subscribe to. The leaders of the movement are not real feminists. The ones who have laid the foundations for the movement and steered us all into these days of apocalyptic madness and rampant misandry enforced by law are not the real feminists.

And Hitlerism, you must understand, is not real national socialism. Real national socialism is something quite different. And on and on the circle goes. Where it ends, no-one knows. Nor where it begins.

I am given to understand that there exist no real feminists. Because this is the excuse whenever these hateful, bigoted purveyors of nonsense and neglect parade their hatred of all things male and masculine around town; that they are not real feminists. And when the leaders of a movement are not real adherents to a movement, it is safe to assume that there exist no real feminists, and that it is all a washbasin filled with toxic waste, vaginal sludge and phlegm.

It is fucking nasty, is what I am getting at.

Time and again, these excuses pop up. And people believe it, all the fucking time, people believe it. That the leaders of the movement – the movers and shakers of the law of the land – the ones implementing all manner of vile treatment of men and preferential treatment for women based on naught but sex – are but a vocal minority, a loud-mouthed gangrenous few who do nothing and accomplish nothing and are thusly of little consequence to the movement as a whole, despite the fact that these trademarked not real feminists are the ones responsible for male victims of intimate partner violence, as well as their children, not only not being believed, but not receiving help at the hands of the plentiful resources available to victims of intimate partner violence. Given that the real victims, ya know, are women and women only. But no – that is not real feminism. They just wield all the power and influence in the name of holy feminism and its wriggling, spineless serpent-goddess. And those who are supposedly real feminists do nothing to stop these so-called fake feminists. How very weird.

You know what?

I don’t often say this, but I will make an exception.

Fuck you!

Fuck you right in the ear and the nostrils with a barbwire-dildo laced with ferret-piss and honey, covered in angry ants!

This work shows that men often experience barriers when seeking help when calling domestic violence hotlines, for instance, men who sustained all types of IPV report that the hotline workers say that they only help women, infer or explicitly state that the men must be the actual instigators of the violence, or ridicule them. Male help-seekers also report that hotlines will sometimes refer them to batterers’ programs. Some men have reported that when they call the police during an incident in which their female partners are violent, the police sometimes fail to respond. Other men reported being ridiculed by the police or being incorrectly arrested as the primary aggressor. Within the judicial system, some men who sustained IPV reported experiencing gender-stereotyped treatment. Even with apparent corroborating evidence that their female partners were violent and that the help-seekers were not, they reportedly lost custody of their children, were blocked from seeing their children, and were falsely accused by their partners of IPV and abusing their children. According to some, the burden of proof for male IPV victims may be especially high.

Now, colour me prickly surprised and oddly titillated – could it really be? Well, yes, of course it could really be. The most infuriating bother of it all is that feminists will go out of their way to claim that this treatment is the fault of men, of toxic masculinity and of the patriarchy and that feminism is the force needed to fix it. This despite them being the reason for this sad state of affairs in the first place. At least now we have an admittance from their own filthy and bloodstained hands that they have knowingly “contained” – their word – instances of male victims and female perpetrators, so one would be inclined to believe that this excuse would no longer work.

Yet, it will still work.

It will still be presented as being the fault of men. Whilst in actuality being a combination of the succubi forces of feminism and the gynocentric nature of our species designing a cultural cutlery narrative that women are victims, even when women are the perpetrators. I can imagine no harsher punishment – no harsher and more foul treatment – than being arrested for being assaulted by ones partner, adding insult to injury one snakelike slither at a time, with the godawful feminist dogma whispering in his ear that this is the fault of men and of himself by extension.

A few quotes from the paper, which I think is of interest:

They offered to listen if I wanted to recount what had happened, but indicated that no support services were available”.

I was mostly just doing research after the occurrence to find out what I should do. I found mostly female help sites and was turned down by several so I gave up.

In regards to law involvement:

They determined she was the aggressor but said since I was a man it was silly to arrest her.”

Told me to get her help. Told me to spend the night in a hotel.”

They saw me as a large male and… took her side. I was at the hospital with bruising and burned eyes from hot coffee thrown in them. They didn’t believe that she did this… and refused to arrest her… The next incidence… the police… saw me bleeding they charged her with felony DV, but later dropped it to misdemeanour assault because we are not married and do not live together.”

Well, now, ain’t that interesting in light of the first paper linked? I would dare say that in the line of duty, neglect of the male is right there up front and centre for all the world to see, were they only willing to do so. Clearly, it is incredibly difficult to see after decades of feminist lobbying and implementations – or alterations – of law made to define Domestic Violence in a light spun neatly by the web of feminist dogma, such as the Duluth-model for dealing with domestic violence. But more on that later, as I keep saying whenever I bring it up. I think – quite simply – that it deserves a ramble all on its lonesome.

When all things are placed within the framework of an ideology that presumes women to be the oppressed and men to be the oppressors, violence can only ever go one way. And that way is down from the top – from man to woman. Women who are violent against their male partners are thus given leeway for her supposedly being oppressed for being female and nothing but. The domestic violence industry has handcrafted this fairytale on feminist insistence, where the big bad wolf is the man and everything done to fight the big bad wolf is of the good, even when that means a man being arrested for his horrible crime of being assaulted.

And so, the girl cried “Wolf”.

Because he must have done something to her that caused her to lash out at him. Because the story told and the image presented for decades has been one in which women are never the main perpetrators, nor the first instigators. It has been presented as being so simple, so lacking in nuance as to be black and white; that is the ever-popular Men Bad – Women Good. I know I repeat this often. This point needs to be hammered home with all the persistence and subtlety of a rampant AK-47 in the hands of a drugged-out-of-his-mind chimpanzee.

When faced with this – that male victims are arrested – the feminist hive-mind does, in my admittedly anecdotal experience one of two things. They defend the woman, stating that he must have done something. Or they claim – as they always do – that this is the fault of the patriarchy for viewing women as weak and helpless, forgetting for convenience the fact that all this is the fault of feminist lobbying. That this is the fault of feminism is made evident – clear and bright as the dawning of a new day – when looking at the first paper linked, or looking at the interview with foul and filthy Katherine Spillar in the documentary the Red Pill, wherein she states that “it is not girls beating up on boys, it is boys beating up on girls” and that “Domestic Violence” is nothing but a “clean-up word for wife-beating.” Imagine my bedazzled shock!

If this is not neglecting male victims and containing female perpetrators for the movement and the ideology and nothing but that, I have no idea what is.

This does not matter much, however, within a culture that is so decided upon viewing women as permanent victims of the tyranny of men that we willingly ignore all facts to the contrary of the cultural narrative. And that is a narrative that has been pushed and prodded and presented as absolute fact for decades, despite being at the best falsely presented statistics, and at the worst downright lies.

The worst part – to my eyes at least – is not the narrative being presented of only men being perpetrators and only women being victims. The worst part of it all is that this one-sided narrative, this bitterly unnuanced view of things, stand directly in the path, blocking what would be the best attempt at remedying the problem. And that is looking at the core reason for violence, which seems to be linked intimately with family of origin issues.

That is to say – the sins of the father will be visited upon the son. Adding, of course, that the sins of the mother and father both will be visited upon the son and the daughter both, in equal measure. Doomed to repetition is the generational cycle of abuse.

For are not our behaviours – our patterns of behaviour in adult life very much a reflection of that of our parents, be they our mothers or our fathers? Being able to see this pattern – this circle of abuse clearly, would mean being able to consider the instigators of violence, the perpetrators of violence within a family, be that reciprocal or not, in light of the abuse they suffered at the hands of their parents. Not as a manner of excuse for their behaviour, but as a way to teach them ways of working through the trauma from the abuse that is not them re-playing it time and again, regurgitating the same generational sins as their parents and their parents did, and so forth and so on.

It would mean grabbing the serpent by its tail, understanding that it is a far more complex issue than the feminist hive-mind and their various sultry snake-cult priestesses would have it presented. This way of tackling the issue, however, would of course mean that the feminist movement as well as the domestic violence movement, which is, to be honest, more or less the same thing at this point, would loose not only the stranglehold they have on the discussion but also a wealth of funding and control.

Which I, of course, consider to be a godsend.

But which they clearly do not – hence the first paper linked, wherein they present arguments for acknowledging female perpetrators of domestic violence in order to further the agenda of the movement, not the help or protection of the individual victims of intimate partner violence, nor the families destroyed by it.

Which just goes to show that feminism cares neither for women nor for men, but their own agenda. Whatever that agenda may be at any given moment.

It is definitive proof that feminism as a movement cares for naught but their movement. Women that oppose their movement and the dogma of it all – Erin Pizzey, for instance, can burn in hell for all they are concerned. And men can go to hell as a collective no matter who they are or what they have done. Or what they haven’t done. Where there should be compassion shown to those who are abused no matter their sex, there is naught. All there is is a movement so entrenched in its own ideology and orthodoxy that they willingly – and admittedly – lie in order to further this orthodoxy. At the expense of victims, be they male or female, adult or child.

And that is that.

No individual matter.

Only the party matter.

All else is naught but sacrifices for the serpent-god.

Moiret’s Book, “Howling at a Slutwalk Moon”:

Vol 1 Paperback: https://www.amazon.com/dp/107571074X
Vol 1 Kindle: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07TZTPDPR
Vol 2 Paperback: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1075714184
Vol 2 Kindle: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07TZR25NL
Vol 1 Illustrated Paperback: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1075717094
Vol 2 Illustrated Paperback: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1075723078

Beneath the Streets; A Song of Male Sacrifice:

Illustration: “Blue Light Spasm”, 2019, Moiret Allegiere

This is a guest post from Moiret Allegiere.  He has a great deal to say about our plight as men in today’s insane misandrist world. You can find his blog here.

Beneath the streets of our civilization lie the burnt and mangled corpses of men. Centuries of rotten carcasses piled beneath our feet, upon whose skulls we trample and whose broken ribs forever carry the brute weight of our desired rampage towards the sunset.

In the midst of our rivers and our sewers flow the blood of men, coursing through our quick-and-easy lives as the pulse beats in our chests and juggle in our jugulars, cut deeply into our shared destiny and yet snap-chatted into complete and utter oblivion.

The smell of sweat mingled with the smell of molten metal; volcanic eruptions of steel-farms-and-mills tingling the spine of our calculated wreckage of the scenery—apocalyptic graveyards grey and industrial in streets naked and unafraid, unashamed.

Rising like the heaving chest of an asthmatic; black oozing smoke from coal-fires or explosions in mines underneath the feet of our history analysed by puritans in wretched excess—now forgotten, now pushed away as damage done to nature more than men.

Or perplexingly perceived to be damage done by men upon the face of earth; scars cut into her beating heart by the uncaring hands and terrorist actions of men wielding knives sharpened to pick-axe-points to dominate and destroy, to exterminate and terminate.

Drawn as damage done by pure malice, by ideological disinterest in the ecosystem and its careful symbiosis with the floral fauns of ages past; prophetic visions not of mechanical necessity but of the three X’s – Explore, Expand, Exterminate, building not on hope but upon hate.

And all the corpses maligned and magnified that line our streets and pampered pockets died in vain and—in some strangers eye—a pragmatic parasite to be displayed as archaic tools of oppression for doing what they had to do, not what they wanted to do…

…and all the blood pumped to and fro our synthetic urban symbiosis, picturing the city as an organism, heart pounding, carrying vessels to and fro to do the work and duty that need be done; heroes hidden in the everyday soot and grime of displaced malcontent…

…and all the dead and all the dying whose hearts and souls were lost in permanent war, worn down and torn asunder by outside forces in chivalrous regalia marching to defend and to protect their very own ifs and buts and homes and hopes and dreams…

…all our eyes turned away from the crucified and martyred millions who died and are still dying for ideals and for ideas which they did not understand or maybe even share, but whose heartbeats beat for all and one all at once; who was called to sacrifice for some wicked strangers dream…

…all our eyes turned away from the loss of innocence and loss of life and glimmer in the eyes of those who fell in line and fell into entrapment permanent within the grey brick walls of soul-sucking industry for their lives and the lives of their family in near-yet-forgotten history…

…all our eyes turned away from soul-crushing sacrifice done by men whose wish and will were for others to be better off in the future than he; whose calloused hands and blackened lungs illuminated by the fires and spasms of industry paved the road upon which we walk carelessly…

…for all who fell into the flames of indentured servitude, who made their mark upon the world and who were forgotten and unsung – we turn our eyes away and shake our heads in dutiful neglect to forget and sing a different song to different tunes…

…for all whose arms and legs and backs were beat and broken in picket lines naught but a century ago, who cut the dried umbilical cord of industrial infancy to raise the standards indefinite are now cut and dried in the scorching sun of vain and vacuous whining…

…for all whose tedious toil in the grubby mud and soil whose song should be sung and celebrated are left to die in the annals of history as burdensome and oppressive tyrants; patriarchs of unchecked privilege existing at the cost of the suffering of others…

…others whose toil and blood and meagre existence were hampered not by him but by the society in which they co-existed in dire circumstance and need, burnt by the scorching rain of dehumanized elitism in serfdom mimicked and mirrored in the days as the days were then…

…we sing of him and they and them as de facto Machiavellian tyrants, wielding uncensored power with machinelike efficiency, heaping scorn and ridicule upon the memory of past-time struggles where times were hard for all and one, not merely for her…

…we sing of him and they and them as all their struggles are all but forgotten in the moonlit glow of easy times birthed by his struggles and careless self-sacrifice done in the daring glow of the hope that is the new daze of new days dawning in the unforeseeable future…

…we sing of him and they and them as simplified black/white explorations of history viewed through binocular lenses cracked and covered in soot by a generation – give or take – of easy living relative to the past whose presence we have dutifully decided to forget and revise…

…we sing of him and they and them as were he and they and them enemies of the women and children for whom blood were spilt for the sake of them and of future generations; for whom backs were bent and bones were broken on the road to better living…

…we sing of him and they and them as if they matter none in the building of our easy day-daze societies, where we now find ourselves lost dancing in the silver light spat upon us by the moon under whose streaks of silver we have fallen into thankless, dubious, immediate lives…

…we sing of him and they and them as relics of some former era of male supremacy under whose boot and heels all who were not men were crushed and smothered into relentless compliance with his governing will and steel-tipped iron glove of rape…

…we sing of this and of that, remembering little and knowing even less, permanently googling the eye of the beholder as though the eye of the beholder matter more than the beholden who wore the rags of deep despair and desperate danger to save others at the cost of himself…

…we sing of this and mumble about that, understanding little, and caring even less, about the men upon whose shoulders we grandstand to amplify our virtue by caring about everyone but him and his life, his sacrifice and premature industrial accident or war-planned death…

…we sing of this and celebrate that and forget – in our relative ease of living, in our somewhat simple lives – the many centuries of dead and broken men below our feet where we walk with ease, carrying Instagram-models in our pockets and thinking no further than our memes…

…we celebrate this and sing of that, as all our shared struggles and all our historical nuance and difficulty and nuanced difficulty is flaccidly flashed into unblinking social-media existence dragging on into our self determined societal suicidal samba…

…we forget this, as we shame that which we should remember with reverence and respect; our water still poured from sinks by the blood of men, our pocket computers built upon the rotting corpse-hands of those men who died for our lives, whose lives and memories we now shame.

Beneath the streets of our civilization lie the burnt and mangled corpses of men. Centuries of rotten carcasses piled beneath our feet, upon whose skulls we trample and whose broken ribs forever carry the brute weight of our desired rampage towards the sunset.

 

Moiret’s Book – Howling at a Slutwalk Moon:

Vol 1 Paperback: https://www.amazon.com/dp/107571074X
Vol 1 Kindle: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07TZTPDPR
Vol 2 Paperback: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1075714184
Vol 2 Kindle: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07TZR25NL
Vol 1 Illustrated Paperback: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1075717094
Vol 2 Illustrated Paperback: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1075723078

My Generation Killed Rock’N’Roll:

Illustration: «As my Fedora Gently Weeps», 2019, Moiret Allegiere

This is a guest post from Moiret Allegiere.  He has a great deal to say about our plight as men in today’s insane misandrist world. You can find his blog here.

Illustration: «Rock’N’Roll will never die», 2019, Moiret Allegiere

_____________________________

We are a generation lost, choking on our own fumes of self-righteous indignation egged on by dishonest academic coprophilia. Come past, come present, come future, we will all be forced to eat shit and then die, harnessed to our safety-bubbles and lost within the great wide world-void without a safety net. Cerebral coprophilia.

Where once we used to taste and thrive on danger – what could be considered dangerous – rebellion and wild vulgarity, rock’n’roll and free expression – we now thrive on telling others what they may or may not speak and how they should go about doing so. Or not doing so.

Where once we used to laugh and crack whiplash-jokes at just about anything, we are now so inoculated that our mediocre playtime schools tell us nothing of substance for fear of triggering the trigger-happy woke hipster squad armed with muscle-loss rifles. Pow pow pow.

We are the generation of South Park and gross-out humour. And we can’t stand anything offensive. It boggles the mind and shakes the spinal fluid out my nose and ears. If anything, we should be so used to wild kicks in all directions that nothing would phase us. But the loonies have taken over the asylum. They have overrun our institutions and turned them on their head very much over heels – wondrous institutions of higher indoctrination into the victim cult of burnt offerings – neck scarred by failed lynchings – free-form ideas replaced with cancerous tumours. We no longer seek to understand or heal through laughter and through humour. We seek to heal through trapping ourselves within a cage and throwing away the key. Demanding anything we don’t like be thrown out of society and beaten to a bloody pulp by those who are supposedly opposed to violence. Mad wild-beast-hysteria, mirroring those who protested rock’n’roll, who decided that Dungeons and Dragons was a pathway to satanism, who blamed Alice Cooper for murders and claimed Marilyn Manson as the reason for school-shootings and massacres.

Masculinity is taught in schools to be a dangerous ideology, through years of unchecked auto-cannibalism on behalf of western thought. Research gone the route of subjective opinion where objective fact is naught but triggers for the squad of woke dementia branded by their handlers and told that they must never have their feelings hurt. If they are of a non-masculine persuasion, that is.

For there are no checks in place, no balance to be had. Boys and men may still be subject to denigration and hatred, uncensored and shot out both barrels of rhetorical shotguns aimed flat-fisted and devoid of facts at the chests and beating hearts of young boys trapped in schools to be told that they are vicious visceral beasts of rape and annihilation. And girls are still sugar and spice and everything nice – en mass.

All boys and men should do is sit still, silent and complacent, as their inner world burns and wild teacher’s manifested telepathy reach into their minds to tell them not what they think but what the academic nincompoops of mass-indoctrinated hay-fever tell them that they think that they think. For boys are still snips and snails and puppy-dog tails. And there is something wrong with boys and with men that must be unlearned through rigorous academic shit-tests. And this is painted as being of great service to boys and men! Manufacturing confusion and inner turmoil, self-loathing and layers of shame in the souls of boys and men – attacking their core identity – is rendered as a service and not a full frontal assault on their very being. In a just universe, these people would be shunned and shamed for their blatant assault on a group of people for nothing but their innate characteristics. In a universe and a society that ran on reason, these peddlers of abhorrent hatred would be hated and curb-stomped and left in the wilderness.

My generation is doomed. Domesticated and complacent. Whipped into place by hatred and shame painted in the new glow of liberating equality; by gender-political con-artists espousing feminine virtue as the only virtue, demanding that they be the ones to decide what are the real problems facing men, never leaving men a space to decide for themselves. Or speak on behalf of themselves. Punctuated by the guttural roar of clenched teeth and fists flung violently towards the world of men. And never – never understanding that it is not in the best interest of men that men should not be allowed to speak for themselves as to what constitutes and makes a man a man, that it is not in the best interest of men that men should not be the ones to speak on what are the issues facing men.

A political movement that has picked its own enemy should not be the ones to speak on behalf of their enemy. This should be obvious. Yet, here we are, a society so firmly placed betwixt the unwashed butt-cheeks of feminist misandric ideology that all our noses and all our tongues are brown, and all we taste and smell is shit. So much so that we do not notice the taste and smell any more. We take it for granted. Part and parcel of the western utopian pipe-bomb-dream where sex and gender does not matter, except when it does matter. And when it does matter, it is when one is better than the other and one is worse than the other. Skewed heavily in favour of the fraud and sham of feminist poltergeist-philosophy, thriving on hatred and division when claiming to be nothing of the sort. Of course.

My generation were fed the notion of equal treatment through the myopic lenses of frazzled and bewildered feminism. We had feminism forced down our throats as the movement with a monopoly on equality; the movement of equality to end all other civil rights movements, past, present and future. So that no other voices and no other views were to be heard and were to be seen. Because there were no other movements of such fantastic vision, such fantastic truth and beauty. Opposition to feminism meant not only opposition to equality, but opposition to women. And opposition to women is worse than being opposed to equality. Which, I think, should be an eye-opener if ever there was one.

Any movement that does not tolerate dissent… that does not tolerate other movements… should be hastily ignored and thrown out the door flat on their anaemic arse. Any political movement so tyrannical and so domineering as to claim to hold the monopoly on this, that or the other should be hastily broken down and drowned in its own septic flesh. The obvious totalitarianism in this way of thinking is nothing that should be celebrated. Yet, it was and it is celebrated. It is taught and told and forced down our gullible throats as the only path towards equality – whatever that tenderly infected term “equality” means.

My generation had no personal choice in the matter. We were brow-beaten and whipped into compliance with feminist orthodoxy and dogmatic rule through pictures painted and presented us of poor oppressed women herded like sheep to the slaughter, opposed at all sides by the wickedness and cruelty of men. Leered at and raped at every turn of the cock, ticking timebombs as they were, throbbing and waiting for rape and pillage and plunder and the spoiling of virginal and sanctified womanhood.

All this to justify the building up of girls – the girl power rhetoric so hip and cool – at the expense of boys, whose shuddering and neglected shapes fell flat on their faces on the sidelines of education reform that taught us nothing but to feel ashamed and feel guilty for our sex; that taught us nothing but an inherent knowledge that we were bad. And all the while telling us, with serpent-tongues and crimson smiles, that it was not about hating men or boys.

Where once we dared to set course for uncharted waters… where we dared to face the world on our own terms, we have been rendered impotent and deemed incompetent. We have been thrown to the margins and forgotten; our pride and our masculinity swallowed by the serpent-shape of gender-politics claiming to speak on behalf of both genders, yet caring only for one, neglecting the other.

And the serpent gave birth to numerous offspring, clans upon clans of followers of the snake-cult, all clinically brain-dead and washed ashore on the rhetoric of shame-hate-rage-ruin-ridicule, hiding and cowering in fear if anyone should propose something outside their ideological comfort zone. Claiming offence if truths are presented, and then demanding protection from facts and from truths uncomfortable to their preconceived notions of supposed equal treatment, meaning, of course, “superiority for me, inferiority for thee”. An arrogant tribe of spoilt and rotten eggs, all claiming tolerance and lack of hatred, all claiming open-mindedness and truth and reason, whilst showing lack of tolerance, proving their unflinching and unbridled hatred at any turn, keeping their minds closed to anything outside their realm of proclaimed knowledge and disavowing facts and truth and reason countering their dogmatic, borderline religious, flat-earth-like convictions.

And claiming all things to be offensive, in order to shut down any opposition. This and that and all the other stuff is offensive. As if that is enough of an argument, as if merely the pregnant tunes of offence taken is a counter-argument. A glaringly obvious tactic of manipulation in place of arguments. Which somehow fucking bloody god-damned works within and without powerful institutions.

My generation killed Rock’n’roll.

God have mercy on our souls.

 – Please like, share and subscribe

 – Moiret Allegiere, 20.07.2019

History of the International Women’s Movement: A Dry Topic for those Wet behind the Ears.

Mark Conway

The Birth of an International Movement

To enter this topic into polite “cocktail” conversation is often difficult.  You are either met with glassed over eyes from those that are either ignorant and/or uninterested in the topic, or you are subject to vehement observation of a potential deviation from the accepted narrative.

One can, and probably should, consider the birth of the international women’s movement to the founding of the United Nations (UN) Status of Women’s Committee (SWC) in 1946, and its initial triumph in removing the reference to “men”, as being synonymous with “humanity”, in the 1948 UN Universal Declaration of Human Rights.  This was laudably argued by the SWC as being more “inclusive language”, consistent with the concept of equality.

From there, the SWC managed to influence a number of international declarations/agreements over the following 20 years.  These include:

The International Labour Organization’s 1951 convention concerning Equal Remuneration for Men and Women Workers for Work of Equal Value, enshrining the principle of equal pay for equal work.

The 1953 Convention on the Political Rights of Women, the first international law instrument to protect the political rights of women.

The 1957 Convention on the Nationality of Married Women, following by the 1962 Convention on Consent to Marriage, Minimum Age for Marriage and Registration of Marriages.

The crowning achievements of this initial period resulted in the 1963 request by the UN General Assembly for the SWC to draft a Declaration on the Elimination of Discrimination against Women, which was adopted by the UN in 1967.  This declaration contained 11 Articles which mostly consolidate the fore mentioned conventions.  Article 1 specifically declared that discrimination against women is “fundamentally unjust and constitutes an offence against human dignity”.  Though that “black fly in you chardonnay” may actually not be ironic, the fact that the initial “inclusive language” of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights begins to dissolve away. The absence of the inclusion of men is a little ironic, don’t you think.  

In essence, the objective of the first 20 years of work by the SWC was to legally build a level playing field which tried to establish equality between the sexes.  This work also inspired the United States in 1961 and Canada in 1967 to appoint their own “Status of Women” Commissions to evaluate the situation within their respected countries.  

These two national committees echoed the concerns of the UN’s SWC findings, and recommended measures to promote equality and women’s participation in both politics and the economy.  One interesting recommendation from the Canadian Royal Commission was to “undertake short-term measures, where necessary, to achieve it’s (these) objectives”.  What these “measures” were, and how “short term” they were to become some 25 years later, should be a concern for those that truly espouse the concept of equality.

The First International Women’s Conference:  Mexico City 1975

The year 1975 was chosen as the year of the first International Women’s Conference, to coincide with both the International Year of Women, and the start of the International Decade of Women (1975-1985).  The principle objective of this conference was to sustain the improvements already made, and to further “bestow the benefits” of equal opportunity on all.  In addition, the conference promoted “i) full gender equality, and the elimination of gender discrimination, ii) the integration and full participation of women in development, iii) as well as increasing the contribution of women by strengthening world peace”.

The inclusion of “world peace” was a major issue of conflict at the conference as it highlighted the major political/ideological differences that existed during the cold war.  These differences were principally between the United States, and the Eastern Bloc countries.  The United States promoted an “equality agenda”, and wanted to keep a narrow focus on what they believed to be “women’s issues”, whilst the Eastern Bloc promoted a “peace” agenda, wanting to incorporate issues like colonialism and Zionism into the discussion.  The United States considered these issues to be non-related, whilst the Eastern Bloc did not consider “sexism” not to be present in their societies; hence there was no need for an equality discussion.  This political discourse also haunted the following two conferences.

Some concrete developments that came about after this conference were the establishment of both the United Nations International Research and Training Institute for the Advancement of Women (UN-INSTRAW), and the United Nations Development Fund for Women (UNIFEM).  UN-INSTRAW was the leading research and knowledge management organization to promote gender equality and women’s empowerment using a “gender perspective”.  While UNIFEM provided financial and technical assistance to promote women’s human rights.  These two agencies appear to be the first to direct monies directly to organizations assisting women.  The first of the “temporary measures“ to be employed to promote the development of equality.

In addition, the convention for the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination against Women (CEDAW) was enacted in 1979.  It is in this convention the phrase discrimination against women was clarified as “any distinction, exclusion or restriction made on the basis of sex which has the effect or purpose of impairing or nullifying the recognition, enjoyment or exercise by women, irrespective of their marital status, on a basis of equality of men and women, of human rights and fundamental freedoms in the political, economic, social, cultural, civil or any other field”.

In hindsight, there are two other noteworthy observations that can be made from this conference.  Firstly, this is the first time that the term “gender” became dominant in the documentation related to SWC.  Secondly, the impetus from the Eastern Bloc to broaden the agenda to incorporate what could be considered “non-women” related issues.  Both of these will become much more prevalent 20 years later, to the familiarity of all who read this I am sure.

Copenhagen 1980

What was initially scheduled to be located in Tehran, was moved to Copenhagen as a result of the Iranian Revolution.  Though a Program of Action was adapted from this conference, this adoption was not by consensus as the political tensions from Mexico City had carried over.

In this Program of Action, the tone of the language began to change.  It cited the “reasons“ for the apparent discrepancy between the legal rights of women, and women’s ability to access those rights was blamed on:

  • The lack of sufficient involvement of men
  • Insufficient political will
  • Lack of recognition of the value of women’s contribution to society
  • Lack of attention to the particular needs of women
  • A shortage of women in decision making processes
  • Insufficient services to support the role of women, such as cooperatives, day care centers, and credit facilities
  • Overall lack of necessary financial resources

During this conference, again much of the dialog concerned promoting international cooperation, peace and security.  As well, there was much credence given to women’s struggled with colonialism, neocolonialism racial discrimination and apartheid.  It appears that the Eastern Bloc had gained the upper hand in deciding the agenda.  Both the American and Canadian delegations voted “no“ the conference’s resolution, but for all intents and purposes, delegates from the remaining countries began to fully embrace the Eastern Bloc’s “peace“ agenda.

The Program for Action called for stronger measures to ensure women’s ownership and control of property, their right to inheritance as well as child custody.  In addition, it was at this conference, for the first time, that domestic violence was explicitly mentioned in an official UN document.  The legislative measures recommended at this conference included both the ratification of CEDAW by member nations, and that nations enact legislation to accelerate full and equal participation of women, and to eliminate existing inequities between men and women.  This laid the foundation for additional “measures“ in order to promote equality.

Nairobi 1985

The Nairobi conference was scheduled to review and appraise the achievements of the UN’s International Decade of Women.  This conference has also often been cited as the “birth of global feminism“.

The conference found that generally the women’s movement had grown in number and scope, and that they represented an international force for equality, peace and development.  (Though the key findings of the statistics provided to the conference found that only a limited number of women had benefited from the improvements),  As a result, it was mandated that new ways to overcome the obstacles would be sought. 

Some of the recommendations to overcome these obstacles include the establishment of a “mechanism“ for women’s equal participation at all levels of the political process and public life.  There was also a call for the formulation of laws, programs and policies to harmonize the family and work balance. 

In addition, the continued discussion about domestic violence would lead to the appointment of Radhika Coomaraswamy as the first Special Rapporteur on Violence against Women, and the adoption of the UN declaration on the Elimination of Violence against Women (1993).  The conference also recognized that gender equality was not an isolated issue, but encompassed all areas of human activity.   This would result in the International Conference on Population and Development in Cairo (1994) beginning to recognize women’s health, education and rights a prerequisites for effective population control policies.

Beijing 1995:  The turning point for the Global Agenda for Gender Equality

The Beijing conference is the final of the four conferences to date, and provided a Plan of Action which has manifested in numerous national government policies/laws and programs that actively support and favor women.  In essence, all governments that signed on to the agreement have adopted a policy tool called Gender Based Analysis (GBA).  GBA mandates everything a government does must be subject to gender based analysis to correct for historical imbalances that exist.  It allows for the unequal distribution of monies and consideration to a specific gender.

The principle problem with this approach is that it is the domain of the Status of Women Committees in the various countries to present the gender specific data by which laws/programs and policies are enacted.  The Status of women committee is only required to act on behalf of women, and not men.  This is how the governments of the world can discriminate against men on all fronts, yet justify their actions as being, inclusive.  This is that “short term measure“ which if you are under 25 years old, has been in place since you were born.  In a future article I will explore how this policy tool has created a situation where Separate consideration is given to one group, But it is considered Equal.

I will allow Hillary Clinton to summarize it as she did at the conclusion of the Beijing conference.

Let it be that human rights are women’s rights, and women’s rights are human rights, once and for all. “