Sunday, November 28, 2010

A Wooly Lamb for the MRA Wolves

The following comment appeared today on the ever-popular, first-ever post on CF. This person is, let me say it, the most perfected and unblemished specimen of an "earnest feminist" I have EVER known -- bar none. Aye, so help me, but it's not every day you'll stumble upon such . . . such . . . pristine dew-spangled innocence! How could I possibly not share?

Warning: feminist subjectivism ahead:
"You - and your commenters here - make me very sad. You froth and rage at feminism... You claim we need to eliminate "man-hatred" and "family-destruction". What has this got to do with feminism? Feminists agree with you! We need to get rid of hate for both sexes, we need to make families better, to raise children free of hate and in a world where boys and girls have more potential than their parents.

"The problem here is...

"You, sir, don't understand what feminism is. You're attacking amazonism.
Amazonism is my name for people who think women are superior and who hate men. [Note: My name for such people would be female supremacists -- Fidelbogen]
Feminism is for people who want true equality for men and women. By freeing women they also free men, so that either sex can be free to perform both gender roles. [Note: The trouble is, that a lot of people, of both sexes, have no actual interest in the kind of "freedom" suggested here. Indeed, they find it arcane and abstract; they can formulate no clear conception of what is being talked about, or why it would allegedly "free" them. -- Fidelbogen]

"Amazonism is about putting men instead of women into the "stay home, clean the house, make me a sammich" position. [Note: I don't know about "amazonism", but female supremacism is about throwing men into jail, or into the gutter, or under the bus. -- Fidelbogen] Feminism is about the removal of that position entirely.

"Drop the hatred of feminism, please. Instead, join us in yelling at the people of both sexes who say that one side is better than the other.

Trust me. We don't like them either.

"-Disappointed and confused feminist who is banging her head on the table over yet another stupid misunderstanding.

3:52 PM
Immediately after the above, I posted the following response which, evidently, I am re-posting here:
Fidelbogen said...

"You, sir, don't understand what feminism is."

Oh, I'll betcha i DO!

You. . are a stellar example of what we in the sector call an Earnest Feminist. Maybe the best example I have ever seen.

Those "amazonians" are INDEED feminists, just as you yourself are a feminist. You are ALL feminists! "Feminism" is a social organism defined by a symbiosis. Without BOTH kinds of feminism working together, feminism as a movement would have no traction and make no headway.

Basically, you're playing good cop/bad cop. The reason that feminists such as yourself exist, is to provide cover and camouflage for those other feminists. If feminists like you were the ONLY feminists, feminism as a movement wouldn't last two weeks - it would be reabsorbed into "liberal humanism" or the like. Those other, nasty feminists are the true spiritual core of the movement, and the true powerhouse that makes it run. They are the "little man behind the curtain" whom feminists like yourself tell the world to "pay no attention" to.

As for you personally, I think you are just a misguided liberal. But since you sound like a very sincere person, I won't be hard on you. Although, I would advise you to drop the term "feminist" as a self-descriptor. That label is permanently tainted.

I have an idea. I am going to do honor to your comment by publishing it as a blog post unto itself, so that others may be . . . enlightened. ;)

4:33 PM

Addendum: I am posting, directly below, an insightful comment that was written, in response to the present CF post, by a commenter on one of the websites to which I cross-post. Ahh. . . I love it when the blog writes itself!
"I'd love to see some blogs or, better yet, video footage of feminists complaining about women who make false rape claims/ stop the father from having contact with their child/ women who complain endlessly about men or use men as scapegoats for their own inadequacies & poor choices/ hit men knowing there will be zero retaliations or repercussions/ etc. etc.

"Can this feminist show us any feminists complaining about women doing these things?

"I'm gonna take an educated bet that the answer is an obvious, "No". Yet, are we not quite accustomed to seeing the now silent feminists complaining loudly when a man steps out of line? So what gives, where's this "yelling at people of both sexes"?"

Fidelbogen here again. I would add that many feminists have already responded to the substance of KM's remarks above. They have effectively declared that they have no duty, as feminists, to look out for men's interests or to concern themselves with men's issues. Now, although I could allow this sounds fair in theory (provided that we as MRAs enjoy a corresponding liberty per women's issues!), I cannot fail to discern that the feminist position is in many cases morally tantamount to an evasion of feminist guilt for creating men's problems in the first place.

Friday, November 26, 2010

Oooh Baby, I Can Fix a Broken . . . Link!

The link to The Scavenger website, in the previous post, was mal-functional. I corrected it, but for the benefit of all who might not realize this, and also for the benefit of the numerous websites where this is cross-posted, I give the corrected link below, as follows:

This will take you to the article titled "Don't rebrand feminism, reclaim it."

Thursday, November 25, 2010

The True Face of Feminism -- AGAIN!

A feminist-friendly, UK-based online publication called The Scavenger has recently posted the following article:

The article, titled "Don't rebrand feminsim, reclaim it", is a drawn-out exercise in feminist subjectivism, composed in the intellectual boilerplate style to which we we have grown accustomed over the course of many years. As with nearly all feminist journalism, it has a whiff of the propaganda ministry about it. It is clear that the author presumes to be addressing a feminist audience, given the almost complete reliance on feminist jargon, plug-and-play feminist argumention, and feminist self-referentiality in various forms.

Clearly, a very large sector of the broader public would not feel part of the in-group whose worldview the author merely takes for granted. For example I, the present writer, do not feel part of that in-group. Therefore, I am addressing my own in-group. I am also talking to a peripheral group whom I would encourage to sign on with my in-group in a more dedicated capacity and, by the in-draft of their motion toward the center, draw people from the further periphery into the recently vacated closer periphery. And so forth.

The graphic image here displayed is found marching at the head of the column in the article we are discussing. The image is classic, iconic, archetypal, and meant to communicate -- in visual-conceptual terms -- the theme which the article takes up. But the original "Rosie the Riveter" character has been transformed into a contemporary young urban female -- a very different sort of person.

Kristin Aune, the author of the article, states clearly that feminism should be "reclaimed" and not rebranded. Still, rebranding of a superficial sort does occur here. However, the picture of the young woman is clearly intended to project the image of a feminism which it is proposed to reclaim. That is why Kristin Aune has featured the picture so prominently at the top of the page.

What the image conveys, is a very radical brand of feminism. Study it for a moment and I think you will agree. That the image does not depict a smiling, apple-cheeked girl-next-door in dirndl and pigtails, may be reasonably concluded. Don't you agree? Now, I would almost say that the image depicts a little fascista -- such would be my impression, anyway. But I know that can't be right, since the feminists tell us they are opposed to fascism and all that sort of thing . . . right? Still, this young woman surely does looks empowered; she is flexing her muscles and clenching her fist, and since feminism is the project to increase the power of women, well, I guess that makes her a feminist . . . right? I mean, since she is not a fascist, what else could she be? Yes, the great thing about being not-a-fascist is, that you can pass the fascist "duck test" in fourteen different ways, yet you can never be a fascist!

Now, somebody will surely take me to task here, informing me that the model for this picture is actually an upper-middleclass kid from the London Art School who is merely posing, and is, in real life, very sweet, smart, and funny. All right, fair enough, so she is merely posing -- that hardly surprises me! But. . . posing as what? I guess you would need to take into account what the average person on the outside of Kristin Aune's in-group would likely generalize at the sight of this. I say so, because I have absolutely no idea what the hell Kristin Aune and her in-group think this picture is supposed to look like. So I reckon I must fall back on my own little feelings . . . eh?

Attuning to the vibe, then: what I think I see here is a sociopathic little vixen, a chavette or yobette from the social dregs of the British Isles, who (with mum's approval) got shagged by her older brother, whose interests have included getting "piss drunk" and dropping her knickers to urinate publicly on the pavement, and carving up your face with a broken bottle if you have an upperclass accent, who got kicked out of the girl's reformatory and subsequently fell in with a coven of radical feminists (the kind Erin Pizzey knows so well) who indoctrinated her with a hip new political analysis which turbo-boosted her underlying psychic dysfunctionality.

Yes. Such is the impression I glean from the study of this image. Such is the Feminism which in facial terms I see depicted, or rather feel, at the head of Kristin Aune's Scavenger column -- and which Kristin Aune proposes to "reclaim". Am I being a tad melodramatic? Admittedly, yes. But if the actual nature of things is even one tenth as melodramatic as what I am painting here, it ought to give us pause.

I left a reader comment on the Scavenger article; one of only two at present. I share the text herewith:
"I would like to call attention to the picture at the top of the column, which shows a young woman clenching her fist and flexing her bicep, with a look of sneering bravado on her face.

"I would then call attention to what is generally stated in the first few paragraphs of the article, which sits immediately next to the picture.

"Briefly, these paragraphs inform us that feminism has a nasty reputation.

"I would ask the reader to reflect upon this, and to take a second look at the picture of the young woman while doing so, and to ponder the contextualization which the picture gives to the words in the article.

"I would then ask the reader if the irony and hypocrisy are not immediately evident . . and how anybody could possibly miss it?

"Finally, I would ask the reader to consider the celebrated Hans Christian Andersen fable about the little boy and the naked emperor."
Oh no, this is not your mother's radical feminist from thirty or forty years ago! This is not the exhumed corpse of Andrea Dworkin. Just look at that fresh face, in the very bloom of youth. Not more than twenty years old, I would guess. And how peculiar it is to read the first several paragraphs of Kristin Aune's article, where she laments the "pretty awful" negative stereotypes which feminism has attracted, while at the very same moment considering the icy gaze of this mean little feral feminist mama with the sneering visage and "machismo"! Is it really possible that a big shit university lecturer like Kristen Aune can't put this puzzle together? Does she not even remotely comprehend the mixed message that her very own published work is transmitting to the non-feminist world? And does she seriously believe that other people are too jolly thick to see this contradiction??

But such is the typical fate of those who are so seduced by the music of their own voices, or so taken in by the stories which they tell themselves about themselves, that they cannot hear what other voices are telling them. Ahhh. . . feminist subjectivism!

Also, I reckon that if Kristen Aune wants to reclaim feminism as opposed to merely rebranding it, then her choice of WHAT to reclaim is very, very limited. The whole point of rebranding feminism, is to make it look respectable. Thus, whatever "looks respectable" is ipso facto ruled out of consideration when the time comes for reclaiming feminism. I would call that a dilemma! But this only lends more weight to what I have always known, namely, that the soul of feminism is not respectable in the first place. Kristen Aune is fighting the battle for feminism's soul, even if that expression is still unknown to her.

The nasty, ugly part of feminism is like a whale that can dive deep and stay out of sight for long spells, but must periodically surface for air. Otherwise, it will die. So yes, in order to "reclaim" this primordially potent element of feminism -- the thing that actually makes feminism vital -- it is necessary for the whale to surface, and to blow its spout, quite visibly and openly, for all the world to see. That is what reclaiming feminism means, and can only mean!

So maybe Kristin isn't as dumb as she looks. Maybe she is taking a calculated risk, crossing her fingers as it were, hoping that you won't notice what is happening. Honestly, I'm not quite sure what to think. I could, if so inclined, give the entire article a line-by-line fisking in the grand old tradition, to lay bare the workings of feminist subjectivism all through the length of it. But I am not so inclined, and I am looking for ways to render that grand old tradition obsolete -- for it is like mowing the lawn with scissors when you ought to be riding a power mower. I am looking to take things to the next level, and I believe this can be done.

Our little feminista, depicted earlier, wants only the tools of her trade. Consider now, the famous -- all right, infamous! -- picture to the right. We've all seen it, or at least all who have been around the activated non-feminist community for any considerable time. Call this a whale-spouting, a true face manifestation, an unveiling of feminism's soul in stark-naked graphic allegory. And what do we behold? A person who wants very badly to smash something! And we are not much enlightened touching the identity of that "something", for it is a mysterious something with a mysterious name: patriarchy. But whatever this "patriarchy" is, we see a person who wants very, very badly to SMASH it. And we see this person skulking around with a deadly instrument, peering keenly this way and that, questing for the tiniest glimmer of this, this . . . "patriarchy". Whatever it is! This person's bearing and demeanour connotes the zealotry of a rabid ferret, and the ferret is on a mission -- to smash "patriarchy"! Whatever the hell "patriarchy" is -- and you'd better hope to hell it won't turn out to be you, buddy! It is all in vain, to protest that you have never seen "the patriarchy"; she sees it everywhere, and if you know what is good for you, you'll take her word for it! So whatever you do, don't you ever, ever, ever give this fanatical, ferret-like woman a reason, or she might just decide that YOU are "patriarchy", and when she does, she might just swing (figuratively speaking) a ten-pound hammer called "feminism" straight down upon your ill-fated patriarchal noggin! And when that happens, it will serve you right because you have oppressed women for 4,267 years.

Hey, what the hell are YOU laughing about, asshole?? You don't think patriarchy is real????


Yes. Such is the true face of feminism. It is what they wish to "reclaim". Let none inform you otherwise!

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Temporarily K-O'd

Old woman winter has struck with a vengeance here in the land of mild, rainy winters. Over the past couple of days we've gotten a good hard snow -- about an inch on the ground, and three inches on my car! It has also been colder than a . . . witch's hat. As the saying goes. Yesterday, I saw a dead duck frozen into a pond. Roads are slick with ice and dangerous to drive on. I've seen quite a few vehicles parked along roadsides on uphill stretches, typically somewhat askew, by drivers who evidently despaired of their uphill struggle and decided to come back after the ice had melted. Right at this exact moment, you would have a hard time convincing me that such a thing as global warming is taking place.

Alongside the snow and cold, we had a windstorm. You know, the kind that makes the trees sway dramatically, with a roaring sound, and the occasional piquant snapping sound when a branch breaks loose. Somewhere in the county, a tree did more than just sway; it toppled completely against a power line, and knocked out all the electricity throughout a very large area. Yes, a tree fell in a forest, and although I cannot declare with certainty if this went either heard or unheard, it most certainly did not go unfelt. Virtually NOBODY had electricity, and normal life screeched to a standstill. CF headquarters was a dark icebox for nineteen solid hours, with enforced web silence and no computer at all. Reading by candlelight was. . . different! As was writing by hand. Especially when I could see my own breath in that candlelight. . .

The power has just been restored. It is about 3 o'clock in the morning; I am luxuriating in a mug of HOT coffee, and getting the place warmed up again. Also, I am sharing the experience with all of you fine and excellent workers in the counter-feminist vineyard, everywhere on earth! This rhetorically disciplined interval of lyric prose has been strictly personal and . . . strictly apolitical -- which is to say that it does not mix the personal with the political. We don't do that in our sector.

It does, however, put a bit of a human face on the Movement -- although not too much of this. As a gesture, it is "just right", being neither too much nor too little. Nary a grappling point in sight! But it offers a certain "toasting marshmallows around the bonfire in a winter wonderland" sort of feeling, yes?

And yet, the total effect is calculated, with political designs uppermost.

Very well. This blog will now resume its normal political character.

Saturday, November 20, 2010

Do You Know What 'Kafka-trapping' Is?

Well, if you don't know what kafka-trapping is, then as a counter-feminist you REALLY ought to learn the meaning of it. No foolin'!
"One very notable pathology is a form of argument that, reduced to essence, runs like this: “Your refusal to acknowledge that you are guilty of {sin,racism,sexism, homophobia,oppression…} confirms that you are guilty of {sin,racism,sexism, homophobia,oppression…}.” I’ve been presented with enough instances of this recently that I’ve decided that it needs a name. I call this general style of argument “kafkatrapping”, and the above the Model A kafkatrap. In this essay, I will show that the kafkatrap is a form of argument that is so fallacious and manipulative that those subjected to it are entitled to reject it based entirely on the form of the argument, without reference to whatever particular sin or thoughtcrime is being alleged. I will also attempt to show that kafkatrapping is so self-destructive to the causes that employ it that change activists should root it out of their own speech and thoughts."
The complete article from which the above snippet was snipped, can be found HERE:

And yes. . you WILL read it!

And while we are in that ballpark, you might as well also read The Trial by Franz Kafka, which you can download as a free PDF from the following address. Mind you, everybody and his aunt Sally has read 1984, but The Trial hasn't captured quite the same mindshare, so here's your chance to get ahead of the pack:

To download the book, look for the little red selection menu on the right-hand side of the above-linked page.

Friday, November 19, 2010

Better Late than Never

I have edited the immediately foregoing post in order to add a few paragraphs that I shouldn't have not written in the first edition. So if you found that post helpful to your counter-feminist development, then you surely wouldn't want to miss the upgrade, would you?

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

The Elements of Rhetorical Discipline
- Part 2

In the foregoing installment of this series, I introduced the root metaphor which the art of rhetorical discipline conceptually grows from, namely, that of grappling points. I will next examine, each in turn, the spiritual and political foundations for rhetorical discipline as an effective real-world practice. In sum, the necessary mental preconditions.

First, I will speak of the spiritual foundation of our discipline.

Rhetoric is, if nothing else, a matter of presentation. And in the art of rhetorical discipline, the self-presentation of the operator becomes a business of paramount importance -- verily, a disciplined craft unto itself.

Yes, it all begins with you. Your self-presentation grows organically from your foundational pattern of engagement with the world. Understand therefore, that if your foundational pattern of engagement is an overmastering desire for self-expression, then your rhetorical posture at the outset will be one of weakness -- as a house built on crumbling sand.

so-called, is both pernicious and unnecessary. Mind you, we understand that self is an excellent thing, and worthy of enhancement. We encourage self. We likewise understand that expression is an excellent thing, and worthy of considered attention to its finer principles. We encourage expression. Yet we understand as a precondition to all of this, that "self" can never truly be "expressed" at all, but rather comes into being precisely as a co-product of expression. The reason that "self" cannot be expressed, is that it does not even exist in the first place until "expression" makes it exist.

So in the course of your expression, it is not "self", but something entirely ELSE that you should hope to personify -- namely, a matured and efficacious engagement with the business at hand, whatever that business might be. And from precisely this matured engagement, your "self" at last emerges, as a consequence of such engagement. But when you try to express "self" beforehand, as a willed project, you put the horse behind the wagon where it doesn't belong. This overmastering urge for self-expression both triggers, and is triggered by, a defective engagement with the business at hand -- it is a chicken-and-egg feedback loop which stokes itself continually, generating, finally, a very paltry kind of "self".

Conclusion: let the governing purpose behind all your speech be, that you wish to facilitate the business at hand. Frame your communication with that thought uppermost. This is LIFE advice, good for rhetorical discipline and a host of other things.

The present teaching distills itself into a practical maxim, namely, that you must kill the babble reflex. By babble reflex, I mean the urge to talk a lot, and talk mindlessly, under the prompting of the most wayward, trivial or disordered impulses. When you do this, you are putting random stuff out into the world -- as it were untucked shirttails, or untied shoelaces -- which gives your enemy a handhold for hoisting and hauling you around. In sum, you are projecting grappling points for your enemy's convenience. You oughtn't be so obliging.

The babble reflex arises when 'self-expression' is paramount. And the unbridled urge for self-expression is the mother-lode of all grappling points because, not being entirely controlled by the operator, it soon betrays the operator into the controlling hands of others -- and what else is a grappling point if not a locus of control by others? The maxim to control yourself or be controlled, might equally be stated as control yourself or don't have a self. For "self-expression" relentlessly undermines the bare possibility of having any self to express in the first place. It saps and weakens the self. It empties the vessel. It is a pernicious addiction, a disease of our age, a false god if ever there was, and surely not worthy of your reverence.

Yes, the world is bulging at the seams with people who are almost literally bursting to sing their little song every chance they get, to make their little voice heard by an indifferent universe, above the witless cacophony of others so essentially similar to themselves -- and I can only wonder why they all bother to do this! Entire industries and economic sectors have sprung into existence for the purpose of sucking their blood. But their babble reflex, I conclude, is a flimsy stratagem to outwit death or, at the very least, to anesthetize the dark and chill foreboding of it. But then of course, I don't think they actually think about this at all.

In sum, you need not "express" yourself, but only BE yourself, by your mindfulness of the business at hand, and by your way of communicating that business and that mindfulness. Adhere to this method, and the particular something which is you shall be plainly evident to all in the vicinity. This is not "self-expression". It is rather expression pure and simple-- or self pure and simple -- and it fends for itself. It is not your job to see to that, so why make extra work for yourself?

There is more which bears consideration. Consider, for example, that expression of any kind -- that is to say, transmission -- makes it more difficult to gather information. When you are talking, you are not listening. When you are putting out, you are not taking in. Hence, you are not gaining knowledge. The royal road to ignorance, accordingly, is the seductive music of your own voice. Enjoy that music by all means, since you will need to cultivate virtuosity on your instrument in order to fine-tune the art of persuasion. But know when to give it a rest and let "George" take over. That is to say, let the other guy be seduced by the music of HIS voice. As the celebrated maxim of Jesus Christ teaches us, it is more blessed to give than to receive. So let the other guy -- especially if he happens to be your enemy! -- reap the blessing of giving you more information than he is recieving.

Rhetorical discipline means crafting your communication with conscious will and purpose . . . yes? And crafting your communication includes crafting your silence . . yes?

All of this will develop in you the vital faculty of intuition -- to wit: compiled observation. I mean, that the accumulated force of all you have taken in, stored as a reservoir in your subconscious mind, will arrive in a flash of instantaneous seeing-and-knowing, just when the moment requires it. This might take the form of a nameless "insight" to guide you silently toward a correct judgment, or then again it might arrive as a pearl of wisdom that rolls casually from your lips during a mundane conversation. But none of this comes to the babbling fool, so . . . don't be a babbling fool!

In conclusion, please be aware that the present teaching is intended as a meditation-practice exercise for continual application in the realm of daily life. In the end, you will come to know what it means to drive your own car. And what is equally important, this teaching will force you to understand that you have BRAKES!

Nothing in the present treatise should be understood as moral instruction, or moralism of any kind. It is not moralism, but pragmatism. Purely and simply, it is power. Moreover, it is scalable power, with application to both macrocosm and microcosm.

The next installment in this series will address the political foundation of our discipline.

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

The Elements of Rhetorical Discipline
- Part One

Today I will begin talking about the elements of rhetorical discipline. Consider it a foundational primer for all who might aspire to to the fellowship of the disciplined preachers.This long-awaited discussion will be broken into several parts, to be parcelled out over the coming weeks. Eventually, the discussion will be issued as a podcast.

Part one follows directly.

Rhetoric is the art of persuasion. And since persuasion is a matter of prime importance, rhetoric must on no account be neglected, but rather, subjected to the requirements of a discipline. We are engaged in a contest for hearts and minds, and that is a critically important business which oughtn't be left to the random hazards of a mindless crapshoot. The way we go about saying, or not saying, what we choose say, or not say, will either float us or sink us.

Very well. The accomplished outcome of rhetorical discipline, if properly done, is to deprive your enemy of purchase in the zone of rhetorical operations -- and by that I mean any form of moral or intellectual traction that will allow him to make propaganda headway against you.The sum and substance of rhetorical discipline may be condensed into three simple words: minimize grappling points. Everything that follows in the present talk, will be a gloss upon this precept.

So, what is a grappling point? Let us come to grips with this. A grappling point is something that permits your enemy to get a handhold and swing you around, or get a foothold and climb over you. Either way, it negates you as an obstacle, and your enemy advances.

When we speak of grappling points in the art of rhetorical discipline we are, of course, talking about rhetorical grappling points. Let that be understood. So in rhetorical terms, a grappling point is anything in the form or content of your communication that gives your enemy an edge, an angle, an opening of any kind. Briefly, whatever permits your enemy to gain the offensive against you in either a tactical or strategic way.

Grappling points may be graded according to how much access they afford. A grappling point may be either strong or weak. A strong grappling point will give your enemy something to wrap his entire hand around. A weak grappling point will permit a fingerhold at best. If you present NO grappling points, or nearly none, this will make you an insurmountable object that can only be engaged upon its own terms.

People in desperate straits are known to clutch at straws. However, saving that one has no purpose but to grapple with straw, a straw is not a grappling point. So when you observe your enemy snatching at straws as if to gain a hold upon you, then you know you have done your work correctly.

The ideal of rhetorical discipline equates to a smooth, slick surface. Nothing in your words -- or very little -- should afford your enemy traction or purchase of any sort. This means that your enemy should find it nearly impossible to either turn the talk against you by appropriating the moral high ground, or to reframe the talk in a way that negates the force of your argument. In the war of words and ideas, be this in the social microcosm or the societal macrocosm, your enemy should feel trapped in a sunken lane with high, slippery, unscalable walls on both sides. That is what it means, to offer no grappling points to your enemy.

The practical application of this doctrine will be the subject of upcoming installments.

Monday, November 15, 2010

First-hand Account of the IGAF Meeting

The following account of the Oct 30 meeting of the Interessengemeinschaft Antifeminismus, is a loosely paraphrased translation from the Italian, made by a reader of the Counter-Feminist:
"The organizers of the conference did not expect the amount of interest shown in it by the public at large. There was an ever increasing number of participants from many European countries, and non-European as well; the gathering turned into the first ever Continent-wide convention dealing with men's rights.

"The meeting had hardly been announced, when a media campaign of smears was unleashed. Several of the groups that initially planned on attending began dropping out. Threats were made. Finally, the site of the convention was changed due to security concerns.

"In order to guarantee the security of the participants, at midnight the day before the conference, participants were contacted electronically and informed of the secret new location of the gathering.

"Once the ID of the participants was verified from an authorized list, the attendees were transported to a hotel in the mountains, about 25 km outside of Zurich.

"The conference began with a recounting of the threats made, and the difficulties endured in trying to find a suitable place to host the meeting. Potential sites were heavily pressured not to allow the conference to take place on their premises; in fact two cancelled before satisfactory accomodations could be found.

"The necessity for discretion and secrecy was continously reiterated. The conference was guarded by private security guards. The press was forbidden to snap photos of the attendee's faces. Once the conference ended, round about 5PM, there was supposed to be a time for questions and socializing among the participants. The police however gave orders to evacuate the premises. It seems the owners of the hotel had no idea what the purpose of the meeting was, and began asking suspicious questions."

Anybody who wants to have a go at learning Italian, can read this and much more in its native habitat, linked below. I've got my hands full with studying German; Italian will have to wait:

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Is Fidelbogen a "Misogynist"?

The title of this post is provocative, and meant to be so. Yes, I know that many of my blog readers (the feminist kind) have long since answered this question affirmatively in their own minds, since it is par for the course that anybody who speaks up for men's rights or takes feminism to task for any reason at all, will eventually get that nasty old M-word flung at his head. To hope that you will fare otherwise, is to harbor the vain conceit that you can traverse a never-ending mudflat without getting your boots dirty. So call it an occupational hazard. As one chap in the community sagaciously concluded: "We're all misogynists now." Which is to say the obvious, that we all have mud on our boots.

In that spirit, allow me to reiterate the query which the title initially poses: Is Fidelbogen a "misogynist"? I would reply, that Fidelbogen cannot be bothered with this, that Fidelbogen finds the question unintelligible and devoid of content, and finally, that Fidelbogen doesn't give two spits about the emotionally-overwrought ninnies who would even file such charges in the first place. Those people have no moral authority.

Moral authority, as the phrase itself intones, is . . . moral. This, in turn, presupposes morality -- which presupposes honesty at a very minimum! And the difficulty which the term "misogyny" sets before us, is that it bears far too much semantic cargo upon its slender back. There is simply no way this poor little beastie of a word can pack the enormous freight of meaning that certain people want to saddle it with. It is simply dishonest to pretend otherwise, and dishonesty sets moral authority upon a cracked foundation.

Misogyny is said to mean hatred of women. But that is problematic at the outset, because hatred is not in the least a static or bounded phenomenon. It shades off, rather, into a diminishing spectrum of ill-feeling which dwindles gradually into indifference. Furthermore, it fluctuates greatly according to time and place: does a misogynist "hate" all women all of the time? Some women all of the time? Some women some of the time? All women some of the time? Or does he only mildly dislike them in these combinations? And how if he likes or dislikes men and women across the board in roughly the same proportions?

So the problem, as we soon find out, is that hatred of women is transitionally related to a continuum of other things, that these other things are transitionally related to still other things, and so on. And that in the end, we don't rightly know where to draw the perimeter of inclusion for misogyny as a category -- because any point on the transitional continuum would set an arbitrary boundary to that category. Yet we DO know that certain people want to dilate that perimeter as far as they can arbitrarily stretch it, in order to squeeze the male population onto a narrowing system of behavioral pathways. All in all, it is a totalitarian contrivance of manipulations, dishonest in the extreme, devoid of what you might call morality, and so, devoid of the authority which morality confers.

Accordingly, if anybody calls me a misogynist (which in fact has happened!), then I simply shrug it off. I haven't the least trepidation concerning the moral authority of the speaker, for I am sure it is worthless paper without the gold to back it up. Their power over myself, and my political cohorts, is in remission. I have calculated my rhetorical effect in all things, and I know how to tune my voice to a wider public which hasn't got such arcane standards. It is not that the accusation of misogyny, in itself, scandalizes or affronts me. Rather, I should say it has zero meaning for me. It is an abstraction with no bona fide moral existence, no fixity, no intellectual heft or gravity. The person has not truly said anything, but only broken wind out of his mouth. And flatulence, as I need scarcely inform you, is toothless. Furthermore, it only works in a sealed chamber -- and the world is much bigger than that!

When I was a five-year-old little kid, back in Salem, Oregon, I got into a conversational misunderstanding one day with a seven-year-old big kid. This seven-year-old big kid thereupon found occasion to make known to me, in resolute terms, his considered evaluation of my character: he told me that I was a WALNUT!

Now, I was a sensitive lad, and I recall being traumatized by this. For you see, in the young-kid lexicon of that time and place, to call somebody a "nut" was bad, bad, serious stuff indeed! But Scott, with his innovative "walnut" thrust, was clearly upping the ante and giving a supplementary twist to the dagger! To call a kid a nut, was a cruel, heartless stroke. But oh. . . a walnut! That could only be. . how shall I say?. . . a nut plus ultra! Truly, it crushed, humiliated and annihilated me, to the very core of my being, to be called such terrible thing -- a walnut!

Well, they say that time heals all wounds. And I don't mind informing the entire world that time has more than healed that traumatic lesion which a seven-year-old boy in Salem, Oregon inflicted upon my five-year-old psyche when he called me a walnut, while standing under a chestnut tree on Chemeketa street!

Now let us turn again to the question which the title of this article bids us consider: Is Fidelbogen a "misogynist"? And again I would reply, that Fidelbogen cannot be bothered with this, that Fidelbogen finds the question unintelligible and devoid of content, and finally, that Fidelbogen doesn't give two spits about the emotionally-overwrought ninnies who would even file such charges in the first place. Those people have no moral authority.

I mean that the question is so meaningless it is literally impossible to answer. Therefore I wash my hands of it altogether.

Years ago, you could have called me a walnut, and it would have crushed me. Today, I wouldn't know what the hell you were talking about, and I would laugh!

And years ago you could have called me a misogynist, and I wouldn't have known what the hell you were talking about. Today, I would STILL not know what the hell you were talking about! And yes, I would laugh. It would be as meaningless as calling me a walnut. Yes, you can call me a misogynist, or you can call me a walnut. It is all the same to me! The gravity of the accusation, and your moral authority to make it, would be identical in either case.

About a week ago, I was driving in my car thinking about things, and all at once something memorable occurred to me. So I pulled over to the roadside and retrieved from my glovebox the pencil and memo pad which I keep handy for such occasions. And if anybody should persist in wanting to know if Fidelbogen is something called a misogynist, the following pregnantly meaningful sentence which I scribbled on that day will tell you, in a walnut shell, everything you need to know:

"I grant any woman I meet the freedom to prove that she is what she is."

Saturday, November 06, 2010

Detailed Article About the IGAF Meeting

At the Spearhead, you will find a detailed article (in English no less!) about the recent IGAF meeting in Switzerland, and the dramatic events surrounding it:

International Men's Movement Bursts onto Europe's Political Scene

And look at that picture of the opposition ("Red Feminists") in the streets of Zurich. (Ha! The meeting itself was being held out in the country, miles away!)

Yikes! It looks like some people seriously don't want anybody to Question Feminist Authority! Do they?

See also THIS: Feminist Wandzeitung

Now, there is simply no way that the backlash would have mobilized itself on this scale, this quickly, in the USA. (The Left, in Europe, is a rather different kind of animal than in the USA!) But then again, the odds that an organization such as the IGAF would even form in the first place, in the USA, are also pretty slim -- let alone garnering the level of prior media attention which the IGAF meeting recieved. But who knows, maybe in ten or twelve years we'll be witnessing scenes somewhat like this in the USA. . .

I think it would have been fun to stand up in front of that crowd with a picket sign reading: "Feminism Hides Behind Women!" In fact, that is exactly what I myself would have done, if I had been in Zurich at that time. But first, I would have found somebody to translate the phrase into German for me! (I wonder if those "red feminists" would have comprehended the meaning of such a counter-feminist disruptor meme?)

So, here is what I gather from all of this. For the past few years, pro-male/anti-feminist groups and political parties have been sprouting up all over Europe -- but most heavily concentrated in the regions where German is spoken. And this IGAF meeting is a milestone, for it appears to be an effort to pull together the opposition to feminism on a pan-European basis; a kind of European Union of Anti-feminists. That is what "international", at least for the present, appears to mean: international among the nations of Europe. But, one step at a time . . eh?

Another interesting European development is, that they now have -- at least in an unofficial, de facto way -- a "male studies program". I don't think this has yet reached the point of colonizing the academic curricula, but there is most certainly a wealth of high-toned, scholarly, overtly male-friendly books being published by "classy" publishing houses -- at least in Germany!

I believe that the phrase "feminism hides behind women" would translate into German as: "Der Feminismus versteckt sich hinter Frauen."

Thursday, November 04, 2010


It has lately become known to me, that the membership roster of the Interessengemeinschaft Antifeminismus (IGAF) stands at 2,000. Not very long ago, as readers of my recent entries might recall, the figure was 600.

I gather that the recent IGAF conference in Switzerland, and all the publicity surrounding that event, has been largely responsible for the dramatic surge of new recruits. And for all I know, the number might have grown a little more by now.

I thought it would brighten somebody's day to hear about this.


Since that was a short item, why don't I throw in some filler? Here is a story about a prison sex scandal in England, involving female guards and male prisoners:

And here is a snippet from the article:

Mrs Woodford’s alleged fling with Forrest came to light after love letters apparently written by her were discovered in his cell. A prison source said: ‘Everyone knew they were at it. She was in his cell all the time laughing and flirting with him.

‘Forrest worked out a lot in the gym and was a cocky Jack-the-lad, I think she got off on that.’

She was also alleged to have romped with the gang leader in his cell and met him for sex sessions in a motorway hotel when he was released from prison with an electronic tag.

The Ministry of Justice confirmed five female prison officers had left the prison in the past six years. A spokesman said: 'The officers left after allegations were made about inappropriate relationships.'

A "Jack-the-lad"! Very good; I must remember that one. It has a ring to it!

Anyhow, I am sure that the PUAs and their kindred theorists would find this story interesting to converse about.

I haven't looked into the reader comments yet.

Tuesday, November 02, 2010

Feministing Posts a Fluff Piece
About the IGAF Meeting

Chloe, at at the upper-middle-class yupster website, has posted the following short item about the Interessengemeinschaft Antifeminismus (IGAF) meeting which took place in Switzerland two days ago:

The article is, I assure you, a complete waste of reading time for its own sake. But for the sake of monitoring the developing political weather patterns, it is informative. What we are witnessing is their very first spontaneous "twitch" -- before they've had time to digest, or look into, or process the implications of , the thing they are twitching about. It is their "think fast" moment. And I'm wondering if they learned about the AGAF conference here--at this blog--first?

The bulk of the article consists of a quote from Ulf Andersson, followed by one or two paragraphs of poison chipmunk-chatter from authoress Chloe, who has difficulty comprehending what is meant by the phrase 'return things to normal'.

All right Chloe, I will explain. Returning things to normal means holding feminism accountable for its crimes and correcting the present system of sociopolitical abuses against men. Any questions?

Yet to be honest, I am pessimistic as hell. I seriously wonder if things will EVER return to "normal" -- that is, short of a violent social cataclysm of one kind or another? For the present, I can only see things rolling further and further down hill, growing steadily more and more abnormal until we reach a breaking point where "something's got to give". And. . . I fear it will be ugly. Frankly, I see a WAR ahead. . .

Well no, not "ahead" at all. In fact, the war is already here and has been ongoing for a good long while. But I fear it can only escalate. War has been declared on men, by feminism, and men all over the world are becoming aware of this. So they are proselytizing, organizing, mobilizing, networking, discussing things, making plans and ultimately, lining up feminism in the sociopolitical crosshairs! There will be more and more of these conferences, springing up everywhere, and I'm afraid there will never be enough fascist thugs to shut down all of them.

You cannot stop men from convening as men, and talking about things as men, and existing politically as men, and banding together in the defense of their common interests as men. The wheels are turning, and men are here for the duration. They have been around for a good long while and I'm pretty sure they won't be leaving town any time soon.

Monday, November 01, 2010

Feminists Flaunting Their True Colors

The following is from an e-mail which I've recently gotten from Ulf Andersson. As you take the self-guiding tour, you will find yourself reading a feminist gishgallop-in-an-echo-chamber session on a Live Journal blog. What the grrls are doing, is reacting to the news of that very same International Antifeminist conference which I have written about in the last few posts. Last I looked, this intellectual circle-jerk contained 55 comments -- some of which say very snotty, ignorant and unintelligent things about Ulf Andersson:

I would encourage you to study this material very, very thoughtfully -- even though the material itself lacks thought altogether! I think you will agree it is a classic case study, worthy of future textbooks. Every juvenile trick in the feminist conversational playbook is on display here, and if you wish to understand the meaning of feminist subjectivism, you'll find it richly painted in all of its gaudy colors! Honestly, this stuff is SO good that I would even encourage you to archive the whole mess by cut-and-paste editing. I intend to do so myself, because I think this stuff constitutes evidence, and in the future we'll be glad we saved it.

The non-feminist world is gathering itself and closing in around the feminist world. The latter is getting smaller, shrinking into diminishing islands as the water rises from all directions. And the inhabitants of those isles are rising to the occasion quite as you might think they would do: by living in la-la-la-la land with their ears plugged! But you know, this is all they have EVER done, from the very first day -- they are simply acting true to form.

Against my inclination and better judgement, I left a comment on that thread -- but for some reason LJ would not post it. However, I have saved a copy, and I would like to share it with you now. It was in response to a very brief remark by a person sailing under the name of "Spankmypirate". Here is what Spankmypirate said:
"Anti-feminism is a direct expression of misogyny."
And I replied to Spankmypirate in the following terms:
So, if I understand you correctly, you mean to say that anybody who criticizes feminism is a woman-hater (misogynist)?

I admit how it is theoretically possible for a critic of feminism to be a woman-hater (or any other kind of hater, for that matter), but I cannot comprehend why the predicate maps to the subject in this particular case.

On what ground of evidence, or reasoning, does it logically follow that a person critical of feminism hates women?

Please enlighten me. I live to learn.
I share the above as one example -- a prime one! -- of how rhetorical discipline ought to be undertaken. Enough attacks in THAT style can dissolve feminism in the way detergent breaks up an oil slick. And most of the LJ thread we are now discussing is wide open to such an attack mode.

All right, I am through talking. Here is what I got from Ulf Andersson:

From: "Ulf Andersson"
Subject: ENG: The Feminists don´t deny their true colors
Date: 2 nov 2010 01:23


[Note: the following citation is taken from one of the LF commenters -- Fidelbogen]

Anderson founded the Swedish father’s rights group PappaRättsGruppen after being prevented from seeing his daughter for six years after getting divorced from his wife. With support from a father’s rights group his situation has since changed and he is now able to see his 11-year-old occasionally.

oh you poor bb. excuse me while i play you a sad song on the world’s tiniest violin.”