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The Female Doth Protest Too Much, Methinks.

I suggest a carrot, and hitting the gym.

What about a carrot and hitting the gym instead?

I thought this is a parody of feminism. It isn’t.

Some interesting tenets of feminism are exposed here with a candor that allows us a deep – if deeply disgusting – look at the moral desert that is a modern feminist – nay: a feminist of all ages; the word itself should be banned from neutral conversation and land in the region of mocking words, like “dyke” and “faggot”-. 

Some of the pearls of wisdom:

“Every time I hear someone say that feminism is about validating every choice a woman makes I have to fight back vomit.”

Curiously, I have the same reaction whenever I hear the word “feminism”. Whenever something is said that is in contrast with God’s command that the woman be first mother and nurturer, and the husband first protector and provider – for which respective role God has provided them in a clearly distinct way -, we are deep in feminist territory; though admittedly many do not smell the stench anymore, or they think there might be a “good feminism” and a “bad feminism”. And yes, a woman may obviously work if circumstances allow. Heck, Joan of Arc was a working girl, and men were ready to go to march to their death for her.

But God’s plan first.    

“Do people really think that a stay at home mom is really on equal footing with a woman who works and takes care of herself? There’s no way those two things are the same”?

For whom should the doctors, then, care? Is a woman so good for caring for the health of children on whose mothers she looks down as “not taking care of themselves”? What is the good in caring for the product of other people’s vomiting-inducing behaviour?

“Oh, but life is important”. Well, then…

Besides: how does a mother not take care of herself? Because she follows God’s and Nature’s call and works in a partnership with her husband, where the dignity is the same, though the roles are different? And why exactly would a woman who does not want to do what is most obviously natural in a woman – giving birth – be on a superior footing?  And if she does – so if she thinks it is important – why should this obviously very important role cause her not to be on an equal footing?

Boy, this dyke here must be an Anglo. Try this in Catholic countries and hear (most) people laugh at you.

“We have baby showers and wedding parties as if it’s a huge accomplishment and cause for celebration to be able to get knocked up or find someone to walk down the aisle with”.

Being knocked up is not so difficult, and one thinks even the ugliest feminist – if she finds a man horny and drunk enough on the occasion – might accomplish this feat. Some men aren’t very discerning and, like dogs, if there’s no alternative they will eat the scraps. Still, what is astonishing is that even the fundamental basis of society, marriage, should be looked down upon. Not, mind, in favour of “free couples” who still care for raising children. This female here doesn’t want even that.

Boy, that must be an ugly one. She certainly doth protest too much.

“I want to have a shower for a woman when she backpacks on her own through Asia, gets a promotion, or lands a dream job”

Eh? Ah? What?

Sound the Dyke Alarm. This is the complete negation of nature’s obvious design. It shows an utter inability to understand how God shaped the world, and why. It is denial of the very fabric of humankind.

On the contrary, I say that the woman who backpacks through Asia, gets the “promotion” (wow, are we spiritual) and lands the “dream job” (ditto) will deeply regret wasting her life with trifles when she realises this cost her the chance of a happy, fulfilling, God-given family life. Not many men would even consider a romantic relationship with such a drake. Women are supposed to be sweet, nurturing, forgiving, wonderfully giving beings. Not backpacking career freaks.

Unless, of course, the female in question is a feminist so rabid and so ugly she doesn’t have any chance at all, then no sane or insane man would ever tie his destiny with hers.Or else, obviously, a dyke. Then she can go backpacking, and good riddance. Afghanistan is beautiful, they say.

 “I hear women talk about how “hard” it is to raise kids and manage a household all the time. I never hear men talk about this.”

You don’t say? Astonishing! And I bet they do not talk about “women’s issues”, either! 

Sports, cars, politics, and women. That’s it. Oh what a disgrace, a man! Why, oh why are they not like women!

Thanks, dear Lord, that in your Goodness you have given me a wonderful mother; the utter and complete opposite of this wretch here.


Ugly And Rejected: A Journey At The Heart of Feminism

The “ugly and rejected” Reblog. 

Ugly and Rejected: A Journey at The Heart of Feminism.

One of the scariest features of modern Anglo-Saxon societies is the inability of people to tell things as they are. Facts become taboo on the very day that some “minority” has decided that they are “hurt” from them.

A prime example is feminism. It has always been my experience (and I ain’t the youngest, and have lived in three different countries) that feminists are ugly. I do not mean here the actresses and singers who, after getting to fame (in which way, I will not discuss) decide they’re “feminists” to give themselves some airs. I mean the real examples out there.

When I was at school, you could see some attractive young women who showed clear feminist tendencies. Young and “idealist”, you know. Probably with the wrong parents, certainly with the wrong influences around them. You saw them here and there and thought: “what a waste”. All other boys thought the same way.

Some of the girls had begun to notice.

At University the situation had already radically changed. You could clearly see the attractive leftist women paying much attention not to be on the wrong side of the fence. In the conflict between their (still probably existing) ideals and the necessities of their fight against all other women for the favour of men (another fact as plain as the sun, but that it is forbidden to mention), they understood that they couldn’t fight the fight of their life with the right arm disabled. At that age, the ruthless disregard of Italian men (people who, when they are men, take no sh*t from any feminist, and may she be Claudia Schiffer’s pretty sister) already started to be painfully noticed. Therefore, language, behaviour, talk, walk, and entire attitude toward the other sex were already adjusted.

The ugly ones, though, continued to be feminists. They complained against the “sexist culture” of the country, the expectation – nay, the demand – of a woman being (shock! horror!)… a woman. Their isolation drove them to extremism, their ugliness drove them to think that if you’re ugly, your best bet is to be a feminist and thunder against the traditional culture.

The attractive young women began to smile at them.

The years went on, and the workplace brought a further polarisation. Women with an income and money to spend wanted to be extremely feminine, no expense spared to enhance whatever beauty and femininity they possessed (and in Italy, many of them possessed it in spades). A small minority of less and less vocal women continued to spit the same slogans, and voice the same concerns. All of them (and I mean, all of them. No, really!) ugly. The other women, the feminine ones, began to be openly sarcastic about them, even in the presence of men. Talks of sour grapes became heard, veiled references to certain unsatisfied emotional needs; at 25-27, there was a general climate where the feminist is a mixture between the village idiot, and the ugly village idiot.

At this point, only the ugly and angry were still feminists.

To my extreme surprise, this continued when I moved to Germany, albeit the conservative office world I moved in might have played a role. In Germany, though, communication rules were different: more allusive, less open, far more prudent. Italians are brutal, Germans were more reserved, particularly at the beginning. But they’d open up to you when they knew you better. Then, you knew that all the world is, really, the same.

And then I moved here. New, strange words were common usage. People were “hurt”, meaning that the facts couldn’t be told to them. The verb “to judge” had, for the first time, a negative connotation. Expressions like “significant other”, “inclusive” and the absolutely omnipresent “diversity” popped in. But some people didn’t even say “Merry Christmas”. That’s when I entered a church again.

Feminists were as ugly as ever. But now, no one told them. Everyone was “sensitive”, and “concerned”. It was just socially unacceptable to tell the truth, because a world that calls sodomites “gay” won’t call feminists “frustrated and ugly”.

Well, let us give a little contribution to address this:

You are a feminist because you are an ugly, fanatic, frustrated cow who never had from men the attention you wanted, and deservedly so. If you had been attractive, you wouldn’t have cared two straws for feminism. You know it, and you know that everyone knows it. Your hate for the male sex is the result of you losing the battle for interesting, caring and  masculine men and having to make do with the gamma males, the whinos and the sissies. You were refused by masculine men, who were the ones you were interested in. This increased your hatred, and your exclusion. This is how you ended up being the ugly cow you are now. 

In the meantime, men continue to be interested in feminine women, and women in masculine men. That’s the way it is and no amount of attempted feminist indoctrination will ever change this. Ask every woman (who isn’t ugly and full of venom) and she’ll tell you. No male (I do not mean “alpha male”; I mean every man with a modicum of self-respect) would ever lose time with a feminist. Feminists know it, and it burns. It burns because in the end even they are, at some hidden level, women. So they hate all men, and all feminine women, and call them names, thinking that they, the ugly village idiots, are better. They aren’t. Feminine women are far more intelligent and connected to reality, more balanced, serene and happy  than feminists living on planet Hate.

The truth that every feminist must be told is very simple:

Go away.

You’re ugly.


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