Tuesday 2 June 2015

No World For Men

This is no country, no society, no world, for men. Not any more.

Over on Ian Ironwood's blog, he thinks that he may have found a Rational Feminist Unicorn. I encourage reading and thinking about what was written. I wrote a little response:
While I honor your attempts Ian - I begin to think that engaging with feminists (and women on the whole) is a waste of time. The reason: there appears to be no attention or sympathy for men in our world. Endless attention and sympathy for women, and they cry out for more attention and sympathy in an unending paean - none for men. Simply a cold and selfish indifference. This has been known through the ages. 
From Project Gutenberg's book "The Life Of Florence Nightingale", search in that webpage for "Women have no sympathy":
(Miss Nightingale to Madame Mohl.) 32 South Street, London, Dec. 13 [1861]. I have read half your book thro' [Madame Récamier], and am immensely charmed by it. But[14] some things I disagree with and more I do not understand. This does not apply to the characters, but to your conclusions, e.g. you say “women are more sympathetic than men.” Now if I were to write a book out of my experience, I should begin Women have no sympathy. Yours is the tradition. Mine is the conviction of experience.
Now just look at the degree in which women have sympathy—as far as my experience is concerned. And my experience of women is almost as large as Europe. And it is so intimate too. I have lived and slept in the same bed with English Countesses and Prussian Bäuerinnen. No Roman Catholic Supérieure has ever had charge of women of the different creeds that I have had. No woman has excited “passions” among women more than I have. Yet I leave no school behind me. My doctrines have taken no hold among women. Not one of my Crimean following learnt anything from me, or gave herself for one moment after she came home to carry out the lesson of that war or of those hospitals.… No woman that I know has ever appris à apprendre. And I attribute this to want of sympathy. You say somewhere that women have no attention. Yes. And I attribute this to want of sympathy. Nothing makes me so impatient as people complaining of their want of memory. How can you remember what you have never heard?… It makes me mad, the Women's Rights talk about “the want of a field” for them—when I know that I would gladly give £500 a year for a Woman Secretary. And two English Lady Superintendents have told me the same thing. And we can't get one.…
As an aside, the sum of £500 a year in those days equates to something like $50-60k a year these days. Even for that, Florence and her acquaintances couldn't find a woman to act as a secretary.

The only attention that Men get these days seems to equate to: "What have you done for me recently?" You were expecting any form of sympathy? Forget it.

As Anonymous wrote on What Do You Like To Do?
What my counsellor showed me as well, is that we as men, we have identified and suppressed ourselves so much in the name of our wives and families, we have lost ourselves, our very essence.
I think that “What do you like to do”, was a form of “remembering” therapy, for me to start that great process of reclaiming the authentic and true me.
He told me the reason that I had forgotten about me, was that to my family, I was just a utility, an accessory, just like a hand bag. The last thing society and my ex-wife wanted was to see was me was as human, with my own thoughts and feelings.
As an aside, if you want to know how you can tell the right therapist for you? Your ex will hate them. They will make disparaging remarks about them, as they can see and are threatened by your new empowerment.
People hate MGTOW as it gives back men’s humanity – and slaves are not supposed to have any humanity.
If we men are thought of as human - as something other than a workhorse, or slave, or machine - then guilt might ensue. You don't feel guilty about mistreating a machine, running it until it falls apart, the pistons and gears grinding, the oil squirting, the screaming sounds as the engine is taken to and past redline, the stink as the clutch burns out. It's just a machine.

Never mind maintenance.

Replace it when it falls apart.

So our male blood, our lives, our sanity, lubricates the gears of the machine that is this women-centric society. All the while women cry out, more and more, for attention and sympathy and help and privileges.

Never mind. He's just another replaceable robotic part.

No comments:

Post a Comment