Men in Trouble

[kimberlysteele]

I used to get mad when other drivers, almost always male, would advance on my car from behind and then quickly swerve into an open lane in order to pass me. I often drive five miles over the limit, but it is never enough for Anxious Dude hot-rodding around the suburbs in his souped-up Nissan with a vestigial spoiler. After about six or seven years of the calming influence of the Sphere of Protection and daily discursive meditation, I noticed that suddenly what used to make me beside myself with irritation no longer bothered me. I don't find myself perturbed anymore by Anxious Dude because I now realize that his swerving and aggressive driving comes from a set of impulses that make him a man. For me, owning a car is almost pure bad faith and a curse that I have in part chosen because I did not move to a walkable city somewhere in Europe or the UK to escape American car culture as a young woman. For him, driving isn't so bad: he has a knack for it. He likes to go fast and drive recklessly. He's a boy and boys will be boys, vroom vroom.

Feminization

I got a sandwich to go at one of the many fast-casual restaurants that bless my area the other day. A portly young man with a beard retrieved the sandwich from the kitchen area. When he spoke, his voice was about an octave higher than what one would expect and though he wasn't dressed in an effeminate fashion, he gave me an entirely female vibe. Though it is possible he was transitioning, it is not the first time I have run into young men who don't seem to have any maleness about them.

In the book Our Stolen Future, scientist Theo Colborn speculates that chemical byproducts that mimic hormones are causing the feminization of animal and human populations. The chemical constituents of RoundUp from Monsanto end up in a polar bear in the Arctic; there is no escape for anyone on this planet. Endocrine disruption is the inevitable result, and endocrine disruption causes a laundry list of woes, including birth defects, stunted intelligence, autoimmune disorders, and infertility.

Fragile Males

Maleness is inherently fragile. Regardless of chromosomes, we all begin in the womb as females: for guys, their ovaries descend and become testes. The long process of becoming male is fraught with danger from Moment One in the womb. Males are always fighting. Male sperm fight to get to the egg... There can be only one, or maybe two in the case of fraternal twins. Then the male chromosomes assert themselves as XY. No staying within a homogenous XX lane for them! Enter plastic chemicals and the toxic soup of heavy metals, dioxin, and the latest miracle of MRNA quaxxines and it is a wonder that the human race is still a thing. If the male is not physically feminized to near-death in utero, there are plenty of well-meaning doctors who would like to inject him with an array of FDA-approved concoctions the second he emerges from his mother. If he survives, there's always someone who wants him to drink toxic baby formula and to get circumcised.

Wars

I hate organized sports. I probably would not have hated them if my idiot teachers from Grades K-8 had not forced me to participate in junior versions of them. Nevertheless, I was forced into sports every school day from age 5 until 17 because Gym class is mandatory in Illinois; it's actually Illinois law and we are the only state in the Union that has that law.

Sports are how society deals with males in absence of wars. Sports resemble small wars: two teams opposed to each other fight over a ball as symbolic resource. A sports fan once confided in me that he loved the feeling of belonging when he watched a game. Without sports, many guys don't have a tribe outside of immediate family. They are wolves cast out of the pack.

The modern incarnation of organized sports is a poor substitute for wars though because it is passive and based on spectatorship. The pot-bellied sports fan crushing his umpteenth beer on the couch stereotype exists for good reason. Organized sports are feminizing. They turn purposeful, earnest men into couch potatoes, alcoholics, and gamblers.

The Woke

Disney has been on a spree of trying to recapture its glory days by making its cartoon classics from the 80s and 90s as live action films. Disney remade Lion King this way -- basically it was an awkward, musical nature documentary... very weird. It enjoyed modest success nevertheless, especially in China.

The Little Mermaid is Disney's latest live action remake set to be released this week. Little Mermaid replaces the red headed, white titular character Ariel with a black woman played by singer/actress Halle Bailey. Halle Bailey was sent to do a promotional press junket in Mexico, where interviewer Patricio Borghetti graciously gushed about her beauty and captivating performance. Without any context or apparent motivation, Bailey viciously accused Borghetti of racist microaggressions and now refuses to do "unprepared" interviews.

Bailey is far from conventionally beautiful and obviously deeply insecure. Her invocation of racism is vile and disgusting, in my opinion, and as someone who is exactly as white as Barack Obama, I think people who manipulate white guilt in such a fashion should be permanently ostracized, disenfranchised, and ignored. Halle Bailey does not deserve a singing or an acting career if this is the way she is going to behave. There are plenty of young women far more talented, beautiful, and deserving than she will ever be. I could use one of my own rare talents decimate what's left of her career in a single word -- the only hint I will give is that it's a scathing reference to another creative work -- instead I choose to exercise restraint. Plus, she is doing a fine job ruining her career all on her own.

Men cannot win against this sort of wretch. If Bailey wasn't crying about race, she would be inventing other travesties whole cloth. Borghetti came back saying the comments he made were said with love. If I were him, I would have refused to say that worthless, race-baiting slag's name ever again. Halle who?

Sleeping With the Enemy: Men Who Hate Women

The fascinating thing about Don Juans and wannabe Don Juans is their hatred of women. I know many men who are as irritated by Sex and the City as there are women who hate organized sports and video games. The animosity comes from the portrayal of women as obnoxious Don Juans: it's not fun to look at that kind of self-hatred in the mirror.

In his book Bang, former pickup artist Roosh V spends all of one page on the sexual act, dealing with it in a vague and perfunctory way that suggests that for all his braggadocio, he wasn't all that interested in having sex with women. More telling is how few aging pickup artists have settled down with an elusive "dream female" waifu and had children. Roosh is 43 and despite having rediscovered the Christian faith of his upbringing, he has yet to heterosexually reproduce.

If you don't genuinely respect those with XX chromosomes as human and manifest this animosity spend most of your adult life attempting to trap them like an exterminator does to rodents, it seems you will have a bad time when the time belatedly arrives to live all the heterosexual values you pretended to espouse. Pickup artists are not homosexual though. That would be far too easy. Instead, they are autosexual, which is a euphemistic term for a masturbator with a god complex. A far simpler epithet and one I would like to coin right now is Narcissosexual. A Narcissosexual would happily have raucous sex with their own doppelganger if such a thing were possible, and the preferred offspring would be a Brave New World of self-clones. Hopefully Roosh V has left his Don Juan past behind and hopefully divine powers are helping him to ameliorate some of the damage he has done. There will be other Narcissosexuals who arise in his place and they will be just as gay with themselves as he was.

All of the above phenomenon are predicaments and they will go on unsolved as predicaments go. As for the effeminate male problem, I believe it is an issue of nature as much or more as nurture, and I will maintain my stance about destigmatizing teenage pregnancy in order to create a hardier, less feminized male of the species. As far as sports and wars, I am now at the age where I can choose to avoid all sports, and the only thing I can suggest is for those who have children to PLEASE GIVE THEM A CHOICE about sports, and pull them out of schools that force participation. It should probably be clear that to ignore Wokesters is my own personal policy, and I have even got to the point where I won't condescend to permanently sully their images with a well-placed witticism because they aren't worth my fire. Lastly, the pathetic spectacle of the Narcissosexual is hardly worthy of anyone's attention: just recognize them as the jokes they are and move on.

Comments

[kimberlysteele]

I had similar issues! No stabbing pains, but hyperventilation because I have always had a severely deviated septum (you'll know I've hit the big time if I ever get it surgically corrected) and I can barely breathe out of my nose. I can walk FOREVER though, 5 miles and I do not even feel it. My feet end up hurting because of hard ground or bad shoes long before I tire out. If I ever end up homeless, I will go hike the Appalachian Trail for whatever is left of my life. How funny that now we are all 50 and all of my former gym class-loving peers get winded if they go up two flights of stairs. I knew this at the time -- huffing and puffing while you slam balls around is not sustainable for the long term.

Yeah, the chubby, skinny jeans, bearded-yet-metrosexual youth is a fixture around here, as is his pudgy female counterpart who sports fabulous eye makeup and light purple hair that took a major bleach job to achieve. They are sweet kids who don't seem interested at all in sex (though like you, there is nothing on this Earth that could make me ask) and who give me the vibe of constant, low-key, severe depression. That's why I have been making TikTok videos encouraging them to reach out to the Divine, to do the Sphere of Protection, and to learn discursive meditation.