Archive for April, 2009

A feminist gets married

April 29, 2009

My big feminist wedding

As a kid, I wasn’t sure that I would ever get married – I was not the kind of little girl who played at being a bride. My parents have a wonderful marriage, but they have been together since my mother was 12, married when they were just teenagers and are barely ever separated. They even work together. As a result, I have always thought of marriage as involving the loss of a certain amount of autonomy. Not to mention that, as feminist as our household was, I grew up seeing my mother do the majority of the domestic work and her paid day job to boot. That did not exactly sweeten the deal.

That’s why married women shouldn’t work outside the home.

As I grew up and began identifying myself as a feminist, there were plenty of issues that continued to make me question marriage: the father “giving” the bride away, women taking their husband’s last name, the white dress, the vows promising to “obey” the groom. And that only covers the wedding. Once you get married, women are still implicitly expected to do the majority of the housework and take care of any future children. I remember reading one study that said that even couples who had been living together for years in equitable bliss ended up with a more “traditional” division of household labour if they got married – as though signing that piece of paper somehow skewed their sense of fair play.

Naturally, I’m in favor of all of these traditions. But what’s really pulling my eye is her bitching about vowing to obey the groom. That bit was dropped decades ago. In the 50’s, there were even magazine articles titled “Why My Husband And I Put ‘Obey’ Back In The Wedding Ceremony”. I think Catholics still say it, but nobody else does except maybe fundamentalist sects, which obviously she doesn’t belong to. Next she’ll complain about being required to wear a corset.

Of course, the last 40 years are ample demonstration of why we should expect women to obey their husbands. Look how they behave when they don’t.

I have a prediction: in a few years, this harridan will get tired of her mangina and divorce him. She will have no compunctions about taking advantage of the many anti-male laws that entitle a wife to rob her husband of most of his property and his earnings for the rest of his life, but do not give husbands the same option. She will post a long-winded diatribe on her blog about how she is entitled to take advantage of this unequal privilege given women in the name of feminist reparations.


Masculist book online

April 24, 2009

Anatomy of Female Power Download and Discussion Page

This is a page where you can download a PDF of the long out of print book on sexual politics The Anatomy of Female Power. I think it’s one of the most enlightening and controversial treatises on sexual warfare I’ve ever read and changed my views on just about everything. And unlike most books that bash feminism, it also bashes men. And not just the liberal beta male (who he calls “mushos”) but the conservative traditional macho male as well (who he calls “machos”), with convincing arguments. No one is safe in it.

An errant wife

April 23, 2009

Via the inimitable Roissy, I found this blog, in which a slut brags about cheating on her husband. Turns out there’s a handful of “infidelity blogs” out there.

The first post shows what this entitlement whore is all about:

So, where to begin? The background, as is always the case, is huge and undramatic. Normal and profoundly unsatisfying life. Three beautiful children and a husband who pays the bills and ignores everything and anything I say to him. 10 years of marriage during which I guarantee my opinion has never mattered – I try and try to tell him what I need from the relationship, he agrees and sees my side of EVERYTHING, and yet, there are no changes.

I am talking to the wall. He will not budge – and it is not out of any kind of unkindness, or any lack of love – he is who he is: the question of course, is can I live with it?

I guess we should be grateful that she’s choosing to allow her husband to continue supporting her and the children while she screws around instead of saddling the taxpayer with the bill, as so many of today’s liberated women do.

By the way, after reading several posts, I finally discovered what her chief complaint is: he doesn’t clean the house! He expects her to do it! Gosh. Women of the world, you have two choices: either do the housework yourself, or marry a man who can afford a maid. Men don’t do housework and shouldn’t. Your husbands are absolutely right to expect you to do it.

Here, not content with bragging about being a slut, she brags about being a narcissist.

My husband knows that I was a very errant wife…fucking strangers in hotel rooms and all…and therefore he arranged a special double-length two hour session with the couple’s counselor.

She asked me why I got involved with the emotional slut. I didn’t say many things…many things that might well be true. But I did say: “Because I wanted to. Because I thought it would be fun. Because there is no baggage, no pressure – it is easy. Because he wanted me and liked me and it felt really good to be wanted.”

She paused, looked at me and said: “that’s fairly narcissistic.” And then she moved on.

See, part of being responsible, an adult… moral, is that you don’t do things just because you want to or because they’re fun. You do things because they are right. You refrain from doing things because they are wrong. When women accept this, they will be entitled to the same freedoms and prerogatives that men have. In other words, never.

She also proudly declares, “I am not going to buy his patience with my vagina.” You don’t have anything else to buy it with, babe. MRA’s frequently point out that the male equivalent of women refusing to give sex to the husbands who are providing for them would be for men to refuse to pay the utility bills, the mortgage, the grocery bills, and the taxes. How long would women endure that in today’s society? In any other era, of course, they would have to give in after about ten seconds of resistance.

Feminists love promoting the myth that sluthood makes women happy, but the errant wife admits the truth every other post:

I feel unworthy, undeserving, alone, ugly. I feel lost, empty and at odds with my life.

When you reject me I think it is because I repulse you: after all a size 6 body doesn’t look any good after a couple of 9 pound babies. Maybe I am not what you expected?

I think you are turned off by my honesty and my words. I spoke to you like I would speak to a friend, to someone I trusted – I told you my truth, which I guess is as unattractive as my body – marked and mapped with stretch marks and sagging and signs of time.

Maybe we all prefer the kind of truth that is taut and firm, the kind of truth that looks 19 – no wear and no tear, no life experience to make it ugly. I guess I don’t have that kind of truth anymore.

I am, once again, so wound up viewing myself through the lens of a man. I think there may actually be something wrong with me.

I want to separate, I yearn to compartmentalize, to fuck and forget – but instead I ache.

Maybe if enough men demonstrate that they can get a boner for you, you’ll feel better about yourself. Good grief.

She’s obviously not happy. She admits it over and over, particularly after some guy turns her down: “It is not that I don’t value the relationship I have, especially now that those anti-depressants have kicked in, but really, honestly, truthfully, I am not a monogamist.”

The unhappiness, of course, is caused by refusing to accept grownup responsibilities and instead expecting your whole life to be like adolescence. She admits her husband loves her, but she’s running around in search of a more exciting version of love. She has three kids. Almost every child who ever lived will do anything for their parents in exchange for a little affection; we’re designed that way. So she has all this treasure in her life, hers for the taking, but because life is difficult, she instead runs around looking for goodlooking strangers to pump and dump her.

Even other unfaithful wives think she’s too much of a slut:

Hepatica does not approve of [my new boyfriend]….

Her problem is this: man is newly-wed, man has children. She remembers being left alone with a kid and how she resented it. She does not like the image of his wife sitting at home while I fuck her husband….

I said to her: but we did that to our husbands, but we have looked at other married men, but everyone on AM is leaving someone at home, but, but, but…

Yeah, wives who’ve been betrayed themselves have a different perspective. They have at least some empathy for at least one of the people they’re hurting, their boyfriend’s wife. So what’s the Errant Wife’s justification for doing it anyway?

I see what they are saying in an abstract way, but I have to say: I don’t feel it. I don’t agree with it. I understand, objectively, that it is over their line. But I am viewing it from a distance, I feel removed from it.

My position is this: I am a big girl and he is a big boy. I have so much to be responsible for, I cannot be responsible for his wife as well. And how can I possibly argue that him leaving his wife and children to meet me is any different then me leaving my husband and kids at home to meet him?

I lie: I don’t care. I cheat: I don’t care. I fuck married men: I don’t care. I look after myself, just myself: I don’t care. Sorry, I just don’t have it in me to care about someone else’s wife and what her needs are. I cannot be responsible for one more person, thing, emotion or idea: I am full to the brim and unable to process anything more.

As any pickup artist can tell you, women are driven by their emotions. They can be fully aware that custom, law, and religion all declare something immoral; they can be fully aware that they are directly causing other people pain; but if they want to do whatever it is, they shall.

Naturally I’m most concerned about her husband. Well, I actually worry more about her poor kids, but I didn’t find much about them in the blog, except that she can barely stand being around the oldest one. I was feeling pretty sorry for him when I read this:

My husband emailed me this link to an article about lingerie you can buy for your wife with a built in, hidden, GPS, which is being referred to as a “modern day chastity belt”:

His tag line: “Merry Christmas.” Cute.

I was thinking about what a horrible disservice psychology and feminism have done this poor man. The most he can do is badger her into going to counseling, which has never helped anybody with anything, where some overeducated idiot will try to persuade her to follow a moral code which she has not internalized. No points for guessing how effective that’s going to be.

So what should he do? Well, after my nightmarish years in co-ed school, I don’t advocate male violence against women… usually. Certainly boys have to be trained not to hit girls, but if fathers had the right to inflict corporal punishment on the brainless bimbos who get teaching jobs these days, those bimbos would probably manage to summon the spine to tell boys to stop ganging up on little girls and beating them up. In addition, if men showed this kind of cojones, teachers would stop getting wet for little boys and molesting them and would get wet for grown men instead. And nonsense like this would never happen if teachers knew the result would be that the parents of their victims would give their bottoms the tanning they so badly need.

There are certain circumstances in which wife beating is not only acceptable, but in fact indispensable. These cases are: when your wife is cheating, abusing your kids, or campaigning for the right to vote. All of these things destroy the social fabric, and it is the duty of men to put a stop to them.

Alas, Mr. Errant Wife has long since become a mangina:

I did not immediately blog about the old friend when it happened the first time because apparently I have found the area in which I have some restraint: when you have a blog and your husband knows you have a blog and you have fucked someone and not told the husband yet you do not publish blogs about it. Who knew I had an area of tact and subtlety??

A week later the husband finally got the courage to inquire as to my activities of that weekend. In case you were wondering: walking in the door at 7a.m. – total dead give away. At the time he accepted my excuse of getting sick and a friend taking care of me – and by “accept” I mean full well knew I was full of it and decided then was not the time to call me on it. The sick excuse might have worked if I didn’t look like I had been fucked eleven ways from Sunday – bright rosy cheeks and messy messy hair. I looked like I had been doing…exactly what I had been doing.


And it isn’t that he knows she’d screw him even worse in the divorce courts, either.

Hepatica has told her husband that she is leaving. I have told my husband that she is leaving her husband. The end result of this conversation is that my husband is now following me around telling me how much he loves and values me. It was cute for about the first five minutes and it is quickly morphing into the most fucking annoying thing on the planet.


And people wonder why I hate women. How can anyone not?