Where Anger Leads

I hear this quite a lot:

“There is so much anger in the sphere. This anger works against you and just makes you look like a bunch of angry bitter misogynists who hate women.”

I won’t deny there are many angry men in the sphere.

As i mentioned to Tarnished Sophia in my previous post here, a majority of the anger in the sphere comes from men who are freshly introduced into the sphere on what could arguably be the worst day of their life. The day their marriage ends, the day they get frivorced, the day they get cheated on by their soul mate, the day their kids are taken from them, the day they end up going to jail for a false rape, or not being able to keep up with outrageous sums of child support.

And they stay angry for a while, as everything they grew up believing about concepts of love, romance, chivalry, men and women comes crashing to the floor like a porcelain plate.  Much of the anger is justifiable, because it’s men who wake up to the fact they’ve been lied to their whole life and are now faced with the difficult task of having to accept a new reality and discard everything they thought they knew in order to digest and accept the new truths of the sphere.

It would be as if you worked hard for 35 years and investing wisely by handing over your money to Uncle Joe who everyone said was good with moeny, only to suddenly be told by Joe that it was all a lie, he wasn’t investing, he gambled it on coin slots.. all the money was gone, and you had to start again from square one learning about the realities of investing from real investors instead of listening to people who don’t know a thing about investing.

In Obsidian’s post about Ratchet women here, Off The Cuff left a very good remark that encapsulates what i have been blabbing about above:

There are two components of the sphere: getting men to first *understand* reality and get over their preconceived notions of how things should work, and then, processing the implications of it through discussion.

The former drives the latter.

I thought i knew how i was supposed to attract women. Be nice. Have a job. Be their friend and get to know everything about them before opening up your romantic intentions. You don’t want to come off as just being after sex now and add to the stereotype that all men are after is only sex. Yadda Yadda.

Once i swallowed the redpill and read every aspect of the sphere, no amount of me crying in my milk was going to change the reality of the game. Either i accepted how things actually work, or i would repeat failure. I wanted sex. I wanted a relationship. I wanted the comfort of a wonderful woman. That drove me to accept the redpill, dump all my blue pill mentality in the trash and get to the hard work of implementing the change required.

It didn’t happen overnight. There was a lot of anger along the way. A lot of anger to get out of my system. But eventually my keystrokes became less about leaving comments about all women being bitches and more about how my changes were netting positive gains in The Real World.

And this my friends, is why i get a little peeved every time i have to justify the latent anger the simmers just beneath the surface of the sphere. It’s because with the exception of a few keyboard warriors who continually enjoy leaving comments of blaming everything on women and living in their misery (because it’s easier to stay there rather than move forward and accept the new reality).. most men reach a point where they accept the new found reality and get to the hard task of slogging through their pain and anger, getting past those preconceived notions of how things should work, and start to internalize how things ACTUALLY work, and process how they themselves will work to take the best advantage possible within that framework.

From working within reality.

Relinquishing Your Rights and Accepting Victimhood

[UPDATE: MRA EDMONTON’s campaign is starting to go viral and mainstream due to their ‘Don’t be that girl’ campaign. Follow along here, and make your voice heard in the mainstream. Viva la Common Sense and Sanity! ]

This post may piss some people off and enrage some. Oh well, i aim to misbehave. There’s something i should be putting up here.. can’t quite remember.. i’m sure it will come to me eventually.

New Years Eve, 1993.

I’m at a house party. The taste of Southern Comfort is permeating my mucus membranes. The women whom I have been pining for (and who would be my future wife) is there too. Everyone knows i have a thing for her, including her. She unclasps her bra from under her shirt and pulls it out through the sleeve of her shirt. It’s a black bra. Some of my friends wave it around the room as i chase it all over the couch and over the coffee table like an omega clown. I know i look stupid. I feel the fool. But i’m having fun nonetheless being the idiot. My logical brain is still running, it tells me i’m being retarded. It knows i would not be doing this on a normal day. And it says ‘What the hell, it’s NEW YEARS.. run with it’. Stupid inebriated traitorous brain.

I am drunk. Probably the drunkest i’ve ever been.

I still remember being in the bathroom, during the New Year’s countdown, with my face pressed against the cool tiles beside the toilet. I remember telling myself “You’re a fucking idiot, you’re going to miss the New Year because you drank too much”. My mouth wasn’t moving, it was drooling. All this talking was going on in my mind, unaffected by the room spinning or my blood alcohol level.

I still remember the rancid taste of pickle’s and Southern Comfort as i leaned back over the bowl to dry heave the last of the projectile vomit & bile out of my system, the sounds of party revelers droned out by my nausea, like the reverb sound you hear shortly after a loud explosion went off nearly knocking you out.

I recall every moment of every drunken episode i ever had. Especially the time my friend spun me on his shoulders and i flew off head first putting a huge whole into the drywall. Fun times.

This is why i have a problem with people who claim they never remember what happened, or blacked out. I think it’s a cop out..

BUT LET’S RUN WITH THAT

Let’s say you can legitimately claim that. Hell you, reading this right now, have drank to the point of blacking out, or have done things while drunk you cannot remember. Time and again you drink and cannot remember a thing you did the night before.

If you know that drinking puts you into that state, what you are actually admitting is that you are a fucking idiot for putting yourself in harms way by entering a state whereby you relinquish any and all ability to prevent yourself from being a victim. To enter a state of Limbo where anything can happen that you have zero control over and are powerless to prevent. You enter a state where you can neither account for your actions or accept responsibility for them.

I needed to say all that as a prelude to where i’m going with this…

There’s never was any hope for Humpty Dumpty

Let me ask you a question.

If a woman is raped.. how long does it take for her to get ‘back on the horse’ as it were? Does she get berated with things like

• you’re really bitter and resentful about it
• you gotta let it go if you want to move forward and find a good man
• you’ll always be alone with that attitude
• you’ll never get a man if you treat him as guilty from the start
• your hate and mistrust will keep you from finding happiness

Does she?

I don’t think so. I think it’s common for everyone to put on their sensitivity cloaks and say yes.. this woman suffered a massive trauma, from which it will take her a very long time to heal and will have difficulty trusting in the gender that she projects as her tormentor  The expectation would always be on the man, any man, to be sensitive to her with regards to her mistrust of sexual intimacy and allow her time to regain a trust that was so violently shattered.

It would be stupid to say this woman never wants to feel intimacy with a member of the opposite sex because of the way she responds to external stimuli at this very moment. Just because she recoils at touch now does not mean she never wants to be touched again. She just needs time, therapy and a patient person to be there to help her work through and resolve the matter of regaining trust. Even after all of that it will be an uphill battle.

This expectation only goes in one direction.

There’s a reason why i used rape as an analogy in my incel post. Because the effects of isolation and dehumanization are as traumatic and far reaching.

In a world where every woman wants her ReadyMadeMan™ right out of the box, where he leaves all his baggage at the curb, is absolutely confident, awesome and amazing in every way, 24 hours a day, without any problems of his own to prevent him from taking her on the wild adventure in her mind and life simultaneously thus providing her with the entitlement fantasy she’s yearned for since childhood in becoming either a fairy tale princess or being chosen by a thousand year old Vampire to become his Vampiress (of all the thousands of women he could choose over his lifetime)…

…well there’s no room in there for someone like me now is there.

While i’ve been in LIMBO, it came to me as an epiphany that i will never have a healthy relationship.

EVER.

I’m too damaged and will not be given the opportunity to heal this wound or given time to regain trust. Perhaps it may have been possible when i was still blue pill. Not now.

It came to me when my friend invited me over to a gathering of her relatives. They all talked about me heading to Poland and picking up with a Polish girl to wife up, not fucked up in the head like those crazy ‘North American’ girls, etc.. and in the back of my mind i realized i’m too far gone. I have nothing to offer a non-crazy woman as they described.. because the experiences of the past and the sphere’s teaching to me have dissuaded me from becoming just another cog in the feminine imperative. I’m MGTOW. I’m not going to get married. I’m not going to have kids. And i’m too old. I’d need a minimum of 5 years with someone to get to feel that we were good together and that the relationship was solid and that she followed the Captain/First Officer model. That would make me 42-43 if i met her tomorrow. Sorry, i don’t want to be a dad after 40. And i’m not about to jump into a relationship just to be a dad 6 months later. No. No. NO.

But beyond that.. i can’t even have a ‘normal’ relationship with any woman.. especially here in North America. My defenses are always on high. My finger is always on the trigger. I’m ready to verbally murder a woman with redpill and manosphere knowledge at the very first sign of a woman behaving in even 1 degree of deviation from red pill thought. It’s why i recused myself from debating at Hooking Up Smart. The female imperative is my *trigger* alert.

Why?

Once more with feeling re: Abortion

Sometimes.. even when you’re having a great day getting shit done, being productive and generally being happy as a clam can come to a grinding halt.

So i’m at the Ford dealership waiting for my service to be done, and in come a torrent of emails from a thread over at Hooking Up Smart. I like to follow along to see what the female side of the equation thinks. In my hopes that my previous dust up and rebuttal might be a lone one-off, i always keep my fingers crossed that women will come together with men to right the wrongs and end certain injustices. This requires first and foremost an ability to recognize an injustice.

Maybe my faith was misplaced? Or maybe i’m wrong. Scroll down and read along and you tell me what you think at the end of it whether i’m off my rocker or whether i’m correct in feeling like my day just got shit on.

Quick sampling of comments in the Happy Fathers Day thread from HUS regarding abortion.