What women don’t get about men: we’re all whiny assholes
I cannot for the life of me imagine why Michael Bywater, a columnist at The Independent, even has a job, let alone gets paid to write such self-pitying sexist garbage. I am by no means a linear thinker myself, but at least I understand how to propose a main idea in a short essay format.
So here’s the main idea of this post: Michael Bywater is a self-absorbed douchebag who expects the world to tell him what he ought to do with his penis, being the center of his personality. Also, the world and all the people in it better please his penis, dammit, or he’s going to start whining.
Don’t believe me? Go read the article. Keep in mind that it’s only coherent if you read it as an argument for assisted suicide.
But suppose I take pity on you. For the purposes of snark and self-indulgent superiority, I will break down his long rant of Freudian asshatery for the scorn and mocking of intelligent society. By “intelligent society” I mean myself, and maybe you, if I decide you are a nice sort of fellow.
Michael begins with some sort of allusion to the time-old conundrum: my penis is separate from me, it says I must do bad things, thus I do bad things, and I won’t do bad things if I didn’t have a penis, so maybe I should chop it off, but I like my penis, but it makes me do bad things… ad nauseam. We already know that this is going to be a long synopsis of one man’s love/hate relationship with his penis.
Or is it?
Hold yer horses, I say! Your dear penile friend does not have a brain. If your penis makes you “a madman” (his words, not mine), that’s because you are genuinely an asshole. To be more specific, you are an overly-masculine asshole. Your preoccupation with measuring yourself against an artificial definition of masculinity means that you deny your humanity to make yourself a dick. A brain, what’s that? No, sir, I am my dick. All of what I am is encompassed in my throbbing cock and aching testicles.
This theme is repeated throughout this sad morally-bankrupt soliloquy. A penis has no morals. Thus, neither does the man. For if a man is naught but his dick, then morals should not trouble him.
Ah, but those pesky morals, they do trouble him!
And if we’re madmen, we’re one of two sorts: buffoons or psychotics. Men’s desire, emotional or sexual, must either mimic women’s or be classed as deviant, probably deliberately so. No self-control. Evil instincts. Clumsy. Emotionally inarticulate. Weak. Predatory. A perve.
Wait, no, nevermind. I forgot. He has no morals, because all that he is a throbbing dick that waits patiently for society to tell it what to want. This is masculinity. Thanks for the update.
Furthermore, if everything outside of female sexuality (read: male sexuality) is classified as “evil, clumsy, emotionally inarticulate, weak, predatory”, that’s because it is.
Yeah, I said it. The default definition of male sexuality, which the author will attempt to stumble his way through after the above gem, is nothing more than violence and inhumanity packaged with a dash of self-righteous superiority and a false victim-complex. Male sexuality, as it is articulated by popular culture (today and eons ago) sexualizes violence and brutality by denying the humanity in one’s self and others, and then has the audacity to say that the male is the victim to the female and her sexuality, which causes him to be violent and disgusting because she wants it.
Lo and behold, our dear author has described the basic tenement of radical feminism, except without the coherence or self-awareness.
To back up the point that male sexuality is really really fucked up, Michael provides us with a laundry list of the historical male’s deviancies:
Let’s take my own case. I truly believe that the peak of nubility for a woman is around the age of 12 or 13. I believe that a pubescent boy can only be honoured, and learn from, the erotic attentions of an older man. I believe that it is the natural duty of a woman to serve the sexual needs of her man, and that she must never refuse; if she does, out she goes. As for her own feelings… I believe that a normal woman is little troubled by sexual feelings of any kind; her desires focus upon looking after her man and caring for his children and otherwise just keeping quiet. I can’t see what the fuss over prostitutes is all about. I believe that a man is quite entitled to keep a mistress providing that he chooses a social inferior within his financial means and, when he tires of her, helps her find a husband of her own class. I believe that black women are libidinous and immoral. I believe that one of the duties of my female staff is to accommodate my sexual urges whenever required. And I believe that a grown man who allows himself to be buggered is as much of a criminal pervert as one who performs cunnilingus.
There’s more, but I assume that we’re all too busy chocking back vomit to care.
His point, or so he says (or so I think he says, our dear author has not yet grasped the concept of clarity), is that how male sexuality is expressed is more of a product of culture and fashion than nature.
But then he misses the point, again.
He prefaces his next point (is it related? I can’t tell) with the statement, “yet now we are not guilty until proven innocent, but guilty”. Which doesn’t make much sense, by itself, until it is followed by a
hypothetical story of his male friend, “at the top of his profession”, who “flattered” a junior colleague and had to resign for it.
Unstated in that story is the fact that she must have been asking for it. The male is a penis, his essence is his dick, et cetera. She was a “tutor in a short skirt, plunging neckline, and no underwear”. Society told his penis to like her, so his penis liked her, so he did a bad thing, so he had to resign, so it was her fault.
Of course, the author doesn’t inform us what “flattering” entailed. Did he grab her hand and put it on his dick? Did he put his cell phone up her skirt and take a picture? Did he hold her down and rape her? Did he, because his thought-process is evidently confined to his dick, perhaps think that because she was dressed in a way that society told his penis to like that she was open to creepy sexual come-ons even though she gave no signal and did not initiate the exchange?
No, he “flattered” her. Actually I could say that yes, he “flattered” her, because evidently all of the above behaviors would probably fall under the author’s definition of flattery. You please my dick, thus I must inform you that my penis is happy because you choose to please my dick (and I have no control over my penis, obviously), and this is a compliment.
Maybe the author was onto something to begin with. He begins his lengthy rant with the male fear of castration, which ironically is the only way for the man to be human and not a beast. In the case of the dear author and his sexually-assaulting friend, they both have a terminal case of penis-sickness. It might be best to cut it off.
After Michael is done blaming women for pleasing his penis and extolling the virtues of mixing up violence and sexuality, he moves onto yet another pity-party in which he laments how easy women have it compared to him.
A pornography of a woman masturbating, or so he says (and being the misogynist he is, I’m sure he is an expert on pornography), is beautiful. A man “wanking” is vile. That’s because you’re not homosexual, dipshit. It may also be because you are systematically taught to view contrived pictorials of “female sexuality” as a mirror of your own. She is enjoying herself because I am enjoying myself. I enjoy myself because she is enjoying herself. Actually, she’s being paid to pretend to enjoy herself to help me enjoy myself, but I’m too fucking stupid to realize that.
For the sake of metaphor, it’s like this: ever since I was little, everyone told me that X is enjoyable. I see X, I enjoy it.
Social conditioning, asshole. You said it yourself, three times before, in your own damn article. How telling that you seemingly forget it when it comes to things that make your penis happy.
Of course, this evens out in the end because “on a good day… [an attractive woman] could have nine of 10 men in the room, and there are only a few men that could say that, on a good day, they could have one out of 10 women. And, of course, most of them are gay.”
Which is why I run about having sex all the time.
You’re forgetting: I don’t have penis-sickness like you, dear author. I don’t live my life looking for the next best place to stick my penis, regardless of whether or not that place likes it (they always like it, or they wouldn’t make my penis happy). I also don’t have a penis. I’m quite happy to not have sex with men most of the time. Particularly because most of them are exactly like you: sexist homophobic assholes.
Firstly, it’s not easier for a woman to “have” men. You ever try putting on makeup, not eating, working out three hours a day, wearing uncomfortable shoes, and tittering like a bird? It’s not fun. I’d much rather stay home, eat ice cream, and watch television.
Perhaps you think it’s “easier” for women to “get” sex because you don’t try. And why should you? We all know the mating dance: women have to be Angelina Jolie and still be modest enough to fuck Carrot Top. If she doesn’t, she’s “superficial”. If she doesn’t look like Jolie, she’s “fooling herself” (or fat, which is akin to a death sentence).
Michael, however, knows that he is not the kind of dude that women like. He calls himself “baggage”. At this point, I’d be more willing to call him a “prick”, but I guess I could fly with that terminology.
He says that men now have an “affable affectionate ease with women that escaped earlier generations”. They apparently are, by how he pictures it, a bunch of emasculated pansies. Which is why “lust and libido and passion seem strangely absent”.
Don’t kid yourself, Michael. Lust, libido, and passion are absent, for you, because you’ve convinced yourself that your penis can only be happy when it is fed with an everlasting supply of violence, degradation, submission, and self-pitying wank-fests. You simply can’t get it up unless the world adheres to your sick little sexual desires. Treating women like human beings? Major boner killer.
Then, in comes the pity-party again. He presents us with a laundry list of what men do in the “Age of the Image” to make themselves look nice. The list basically is summed up by working out, dieting, posing, and removing hair.
Hey, fucktard: those are exact same things women have been expected to do for thousands of years! Ask yourself, how many men do you see walking around who don’t diet, shave, work out, or preen and still expect to fuck Pamela Anderson?
Basically all of them.
Okay, now take all the women who don’t diet, shave, work out, and preen. Of the two or so women in the world that description fits, I’m guessing none of them think that they are entitled to have glorious hot sex with male models. In fact, I’m convinced that just like the rest of their hair-removing sisters, they think they are a bunch of fat cows unworthy of attention from even your balding ass.
If they don’t think that they are unworthy, hey, at least you can pay them to act like it long enough to get your rocks off.
Michael, of course, doesn’t think so. He thinks the world is run by women, that we define the notion of masculinity, and that we all run about with machetes waiting for the next man to forget that he’s supposed to be acting like an immoral asshole worthy of a dick before we chop it off. “You get to be a man”, he says, “by acquiring the ‘virtues’ of fidelity, emotional articulacy, sexual discrimination and social co-operating. In other words, you get to be a man by imitating a woman, except with a six-pack. But no body hair.”
First, Michael, “articulacy” is not a word. Second, if anyone defines what masculinity is, it isn’t me. Nor is it any woman. We all want you to be violent abusive assholes, and we love it when you pretend that our noes mean yes and hold us down and
rape fuck us.
It’s all the mean womenz fault, wah!
Thirdly, your scare quotes around virtues is just stupid. If you don’t understand why not cheating, being in touch with your emotions, not fucking everything that moves, and being the kind of person smart enough to associate with others without getting death threats aren’t virtues, please go jump off the nearest cliff and take your sexually-assaulting friend with you.
All of the above, he says, is because the penis is now associated with evil. It used to be fun and exciting, but now it is an agent of violence and disease.
Actually, moron, the penis has always been an agent of violence. Remember that long run-down of past definitions of masculinity you gave in the beginning of the article? Yeah, tell me again if raping twelve year olds and calling it “marriage” is supposed to be a sunny day at the park. You’re right in that it took women to say it before anyone realized it. That’s because men have systematically silenced women and denied them their humanity for the entirety of human history. They have raped and abused women and children. They have used their penis as a weapon.
But this, we’re reminded, is women’s fault. We are stupid and shrill when we turn men back to their beloved history and ask them to justify what they have done with their dicks, and how they continue to justify what they do now for the pleasure of the penis. The penis was never fun and exciting. It was always full of horror and the implication of violence. There has never been a point in history when women as a class have not feared men because of how they chose to use their penises.
Congratulations, asshole, on figuring out what every woman since the dawn of civilization has known: dudes who equate their selfhood with their penis and sticking it as many places as possible are a bunch of dangerous motherfuckers that make sex decidedly unfun.
To wrap up the piece, he questions where this self-hatred (via “manscaping”) came from. He observes that “most women seem to like men”.
Let me answer your questions:
1. “Manscaping” is not any more prevalent today that it was yesterday. Piss and moan all you want about being expected to take a fucking shower and spend five minutes on your hair, but ask me again what it feels like to wear makeup and heels. Or, if commiserating with women is beyond your intellectual capacity, and I know it is, ask the men fifty years ago how much fun it was to wear those trendy wool suits everywhere. Fashion always sucks.
2. Thank you for missing the obvious. Fads for men are designed to separate them by class upon a glance. If you can’t afford to wear Armani, that’s because another man has insisted you do so to be a part of his men’s club. Fads for women, however, are two fold: they are designed to separate us by class, but more importantly, they are designed to help you get a boner. If male executives decide stomachs are hot, in come the belly shirts. If men decide titties are neat, we stock the shelves with halters. You have a beef with fashion? Take it up with other men. Last time I checked, the “suffering” of being expected to wear pressed slacks to work is nothing to tottering around on heels all day to make your ass look fuckable and your calves suitably slim. In short: shut the fuck up. Thanks.
3. Women like men because the definition of femininity involves self-hatred, feigned submission and self-sacrifice for the benefit of your gender. The definition of masculinity, on the other hand, involves violence, the denial of another’s humanity, and an over-occupation with one’s self as it is centered in the genitalia. Women like men because we still, even if we wholeheartedly buy into the notion of femininity, have a notion of humanity in others. We like people, we like you (even though you don’t deserve it). If you “like” women, it’s only because they make your penis happy. If they don’t make your penis happy, or they tell you that they aren’t responsible for making your penis happy, they aren’t good women. Or so I gather from your statements above.
Michael, thankfully, eventually discovers that although he has the brain power to negotiate a computer and type out such drivel (shocking, really), he also have the power to stop typing. Thus, he closes with the statement:
Men and women are really quite like each other. The thing is, we’re also utterly different. It’s the culture’s task to negotiate that paradox, and right now I don’t think it’s doing a very good job.
Actually, all three of those sentences are completely and utterly wrong. Thanks for trying though.
Like I said above, women like men because we like people. Men like women because they can stick their dick in us. Michael, several times, acknowledges this factoid even though he dresses it up in woe-is-me prose.
Men and women, by nature, probably aren’t that different. For shit’s sake, very little of our brain matter is determined by our sex chromosomes. You should have been taught in elementary school that X and Y code for hormones and genitals, not personalities and gray matter. For future reference: I am not my genitals. I know that you think you are, but you aren’t. The sooner you realize that, the sooner you stop being such a pathetic loser.
Also, it never was culture’s job to negotiate that paradox. Like I said, there is no fucking paradox. The only irony is that something as stupid and innies and outies and who caries the baby has determined the entire concept of individuality and personhood (and freedom, before suffrage) since forever. If you want to know who is responsible for the mess, look at the top of the pyramid. That’s you, asshole. Get your hands off your dick. If you think that culture is doing a shitty job of negotiating the idea of gender, that’s because you are a part of a ruling class whose entire idea of paradise is miles upon miles of smiling women, legs spread apart, who have no purpose in life other than looking like a model, being awesomely intelligent (but not as much as you), and catering to your sexual deviancies while pretending they are shy and innocent. If that image is too complex: turn on your beloved pornography.
Culture does a shitty job of making men and women happy because, hey, it’s based on bullshit. Bullshit that you are helping to perpetuate. I know that the concept that you are not as enlightened and amazing as you think you are is shocking, but that’s only because you are a fucking idiot.
Guess what? We’re all a part of this fucked up little charade. I carry around a piece of this idiocy in my head too. Except my idiocy manifests itself in the notion that I really might like kids, my body hair is disgusting, food is the enemy, and I’m lucky if the guy sitting next to me who looks like the love child of Cher and Danny Devito after being run over by a semi wants to fuck me.
Your idiocy, however, seems to be the notions that you are your dick, no matter how stupid and ugly you might be you are entitled to fuck any woman that gives you a boner, everything is someone else’s fault, sexually harassing a woman is “flattery”, and your gender is really the victim of everything.
When the revolution comes, I hope someone will give you a nice big helping of wake the fuck up.
The only reason you’re paid to write such pathetic drivel is because the people who pay you are just as pathetic as you.