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Archive for the ‘Socio(patho)logy’ Category

Team Womyn, I’m talking to you.

I’m talking to your great-grandmothers who rioted in the streets, smashed storefront windows and torched manor houses, for “Women’s Suffrage.”

I’m talking to your grandmothers who took over the factory jobs of the “home front,” in World War II,  so the men could join the military, and fight – and die – on the battlefront. (And who sent their “Dear John” letters when they took up with some 4-F draft-dodger in a zoot suit.)

I’m talking to your mothers, who protested and marched in the streets about “Equal Rights” and “Women’s Lib” – but drove out the Equal Rights Amendment because it might have reduced their historical “feminine privileges” in the interest of the self-defined, selfishly-defined “equality” that was just an excuse for greed, arrogance and contempt.

And I’m talking to you, the recipients of all the fruits of these actions – all the goodies and privileges and overbalanced “equality” that has been given you by the legislatures and the courts. You have the right to any job, anywhere, and the privilege to skip over tough entry-level jobs and go straight to administrative “boss” positions. You have the right to go anywhere and the privilege to have your own “ladies only” spaces free of men. You have the right to have your man turned out of the home he’s buying for you and your family, at the whim of an unproven accusation, and the privilege that Government will force him to keep paying the rent or the mortgage.

Yes, you’ve won it all – you’ve got it, and everything that comes with it!

But there’s something missing, isn’t there? With all that you’ve won, there’s something still missing.

You have won complete control of the workplace, between Affirmative Action and “Equal Pay For Equal Work” and your Sisterhood in all the Human Resources positions. You’re the first to be hired and the last to be fired, and you can get rid of the male competition just by alleging “sexual harassment.” You will be believed, even if your claim is bogus, just because you’re a woman.

You OWN the court system. Where a man might get ten to twenty, you’ll get parole and counseling. Britain’s legislators are even talking about closing the women’s prisons completely down. And Family Court? Solidly in your pocket.

You are the Favored Sex in the church.  Pastors write their sermons with you in mind. They uphold your sex as the paragon of good and of virtue, and if there’s something wrong in your relationships they’ll side with you in a heartbeat.

You own the college system. Nearly two-thirds of the student body in the American college system are women. Your professors, teachers and instructors are mostly women, too – those men who still remain in the profession are scared of your shadow.

It looks like you’ve got it all. But something is still missing … where are all the “good” men?

Where are the guys who were supposed to flirt with you, and court you, and build you up, and support you, and protect you, and … dare you say it … marry you, and take care of you for life (even after you divorce them)?

Where is the boyfriend, the “special guy,” the man who’s ready to meet you at the altar? Where are the candidates to happily-ever-after with you?

We’re elsewhere. We’re voting “Absent.” We’ve gone Galt. We’ve retreated into our Man-Caves and disappeared.

After the centuries and millenia within which we strove and worked and killed ourselves to make this world comfortable for you ladies – and during which we exerted ourselves in every fashion, every direction, every possible way to praise you and uplift you and put you on a pedestal for our worship (think Shakespeare’s sonnets, as a bare and primitive minimum!) – we are completely weary of the message you’ve been spouting for all these years: You regard us as defective, and you want no more to do with us. After listening to the rants and rhetoric of your spokeswomen, echoed and re-echoed in the Main Scream Media for the past fifty years, more and more of us are taking you at your word. We oppress you with our help, our presence, our “objectifying gaze?” A woman without a man is like a fish without a bicycle? It’s all our fault? Okay, we get it, we are removing ourselves from your presence.

How many of the guys you snubbed and spurned, the guys you dealt out of the rotation, actually have the decency and self-value that might have made them into faithful, hard-working, nurturing, instructive FATHERS???!!! You’ll never know, because you and the Courts denied them “fatherhood” from the git-go. You’ve managed to get the Guns Of Government to back up your claim – that “fathers are meaningless and worthless” and that “Women Are The Perfect Care-Givers, so long as the Bastard Man is forced to pay for our care-giving and pay extra for babysitters while we go out in search of Alpha Cock!”

It’s too late to ask, now, for our help and support.

You want to Have It All – meaning all the privileges, all the “rights,” but nothing even remotely resembling “responsibility.” Trouble is, that “responsibility” is inextricably, innately wed to the privileges and “rights” that you want to claim. They are represented by “everything that comes with it” – which is shorthand for “now you’ve got to do that hidden work, that men have always done in the background, to keep everything running!”

Well, now you’ve got it all – including the responsibility you wanted to evade, the children and teenagers you want someone else to bring into line, the “corporate career” that those 1960s “Mad Men”  would have gladly taken up on your behalf so you wouldn’t have to worry your “pretty little head” about it. You may find that statement “patronizing” – I meant it so. But in fact, it echoes the sentiments of that long-ago time, when men strove to spare their wives the problems, the upsets, the stress they were undergoing in the workaday world; they LOVED their wives and wanted nothing so much as to promote their happiness and leisure and all of that.

Now it’s your turn at bat. You’ve got all the benefits, all the “rights” and privileges and judicial protection and advantages, that our poor society had left to bestow. And you’re complaining, that these “rights” and “privileges” and “protection” and “advantages” aren’t worth a rat’s ass if you don’t have a male slavey out there to do the work you dislike.

Sorry, darlin’s. It’s up to you, now, to repair the “broken plumbing” of Society. Your “male slaveys” are abdicating, abandoning, their role as Society’s plumbers, re-wirers, repairmen and valets. You’ve told them – told US – shown us – dictated to us, again and again and again, your spurning and scorn for our efforts, our dedication, and our effective work to keep Society running. Enough. You can fix it better? Go ahead and fix it.

I wish you luck – you’ll need it!!

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One of the members of GoingYourOwnWay.com spotted the following rationale for MGTOW on the “voat.co” website. It was published by ‘vonclauswitz’ – I found it so well-reasoned that I decided it’s worth repeating, with the author’s permission, here on Beyond The Sunset.

 

Here’s what I think MGTOW means:

(1) The society in which I find myself (in my case, American) has prescribed roles into which I am pressured to conform.

I’m supposed to:

(1.a) organize my life so as to be useful to women. Specifically, I must have excess resources (which mostly means, make enough money) to not only support a family, but also to afford a very specific lifestyle (sometimes called, “keeping up with the Jones'”).

(1.b) approach and pursue women. This requires an investment of time, energy, and money to learn the skills of picking up women (because even for an attractive guy, this requires some practice and effort) and time, energy, and money to actually do it (dating isn’t free when you’re in this societal role – even if it’s free for other men).

(1.c) initiate relationships and propose marriage.

(1.d) organize my life around the marriage. This substantially means giving up pursuits that I enjoy (because stereotypical male pursuits are labeled immature and condescended to with terms like “man cave” and “midlife crisis”) and take up the company of and lifestyle chosen by my wife.

(1.e) bear a disproportionate responsibility for the success or failure of the marriage. There is a long list of things that husbands are expected to do for their wives under the auspices of being romantic or adventurous or just keeping her from being bored, but little if anything that is expected of wives (indeed, the very suggestion that she has responsibilities may be labeled oppressive).

(2) I have the ability to fulfill this role. It’s completely within my power as a man. I could do it as easily and as successfully as all the generations of men before me. But in the present society in which I find myself, I just don’t see that there are any real rewards for it. It appears to be all work with nothing in return.

(2.a) The supposed benefits of following this path are either not persuasive (not enough of a reward for the amount of work required), not true, or not rewards that I actually care about.

  • The promise of sex is not persuasive. Sex is available at a fixed and guaranteed cost outside of this path. But on this path, the cost of sex is greatly variable and not guaranteed.
  • I don’t believe that following this path will make me happy. Surveys that find married men are happier are only finding that successful marriages are happy. No shit. Lottery winners are richer, but that doesn’t mean that playing the lottery is a good idea.

(2.b) Society does not ask what men want, or what we would consider to be a fair trade for the work required of this role.There is no negotiation here. We are derided if we express dissatisfaction, and shamed if we refuse to play along.

(2.c) Many women see this role not as a social contract between men and women for which they should be thankful, but as a safety net or golden parachute.One possible answer to 2.b above is that many men would like sexual access to a woman when she is young (for discussion, let’s say mid 20’s). And in return for that, men would be happy to bear the substantial costs laid out above. But many women ask that the type of man willing to fill this role should wait until she is a decade or more older. This of course is her right, but it substantially reduces the benefit of this path without any reduction in its cost.It also makes it clear that we are plan B, and likely prevents any real bond between us.

(3) Worse, there are substantial risks for anyone who attempts to fulfill this role.

(3.a) Too many men are falsely accused of rape.

(3.b) The majority of marriages end in divorce. Divorce is painful and expensive. Many men pay exorbitant alimony.

(3.c) Family courts are hostile to fathers. Child support is out of proportion to the actual needs of the child, is often not applied to the child, and in some cases amounts to indentured servitude (as when a judge says, “your ability to pay is not relevant to your obligation to pay” – and sends a man to jail because his 3rd quarter sales numbers are down).

(3.d) There is no legal protection against paternity fraud.

(4) Fatherhood appears to be a thankless job. I don’t believe that I’ll have much if any authority over my children.

(5) I therefore choose to deviate from the prescribed role in various ways.Each man looks at the list of things that is expected of him, and makes his own decision about where he will leave the path and what alternative direction he will go. We are united only in this core idea: none of us will follow society’s path from start to finish. We are going our own way.

 

More and more of us men are viewing Society’s norm of “love and marriage” from the same perspective. We see too much wrong with marriage, nowadays, for it to be worth the risk. I don’t see this, necessarily, as the fault of the Modern Women themselves – nor, strictly, that of feminism, though feminism has been a driving influence. I see it more as the doing of the Legislatures, who planted the minefield by giving Cupcake more and more incentives and advantages to destroy a marriage and the poor chump she married, and of Family Court, which has an incredible track record of bending over backwards to give everything to Cupcake at the expense of said chump.

Society’s bias is to hold the woman innocent-as-an-infant, and to demonize her partner, for anything that goes wrong in their relationship. It’s his fault if she’s “unhappy.” It’s his fault if she’s cheating on him, if she blames him for her “boredom” in the marriage bed, if she accuses him of “abuse,” if she attacks him with a weapon and then tells the police “she was afraid.”

Whatever goes wrong, “it’s HIS fault.” And Society will penalize HIM.

The facts of this matter used to be pretty-well hidden, even in plain sight. They were the sort of “inconvenient truths” that a young man, full of the natural love-potions that Evolution has developed over the millenia, was unlikely to consider in the intoxicating presence of his inamorata. But more and more of us are deciding that Society’s path (as Vonclauswitz describes it) is not for them. Consider this: 70% of all US men, 20-34, have never been married.  (Graph from CNS News.com – it’s part of an article, “Bachelor Nation,” shaming the young men of the USA for their “perpetual adolescence” and branding them as having “failed” because they haven’t manned-up and married-up.)

percentage-men-unmarried

There may be millions of girls, deserving of husbands, who will be doomed by this situation to lives of solitary despair, paper-shuffling in their HR cubes by day and taking solace in their cats and Black Box chardonnay by night. It’s a terrible shame, I’m sure; in fact, I’ve been terribly shamed, and repeatedly shamed, for not donning my White Knight armor and riding to the rescue of these poor lonely ladies. But even if I didn’t analyze the perils of living by Society’s program as rigorously as Vonclauswitz has, I arrived at the same decision long ago. Too bad, so sad, Cupcake, and please recycle the Black Box box.

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From the start of this blog, I’ve been putting my attention on the “Men On Strike” phenomenon – the “Escape From The Village,” the marriage strike, the reluctance of men to put themselves into the mink-lined man-trap of “Just Cupcake And Me And Baby Makes Three (until Cupcake kicks me out)” Society. I wasn’t exactly a voice in the wilderness, more like another voice in the choir – and the ‘choir’ keeps getting bigger and louder, and more and more men are paying attention.

A few days ago, CNS News published an alarmist, wringing-their-hands article about the growing extent of this “Escape” mind-set. They’re pointing trembling, panic-shivering fingers at the “civilizational catastrophe” that 70 percent of men, age 20 – 34, are not married.

Viewing this from the perspective of Traditional Conservative Churchly-ism, this is quite horrifying. These “Peter Pan men” are accused of living “in a state of “perpetual adolescence” with ominous consequences for the nation’s future,” according to spokeswoman Janice Shaw Crouse (author of “Marriage Matters”) … who further asserts that these juvenile slackers “have failed to make a normal progression into adult roles of responsibility and self-sufficiency, roles generally associated with marriage and fatherhood…”

Yes, they’re leaving the marriage-go-round.

horses-fleeing-carousel

Has Janice Shaw Crouse considered why these “Peter Pan boys” are abandoning the “sacred” roles of “responsibility and self-sufficiency … associated with marriage and fatherhood”?

(Hear the hollow laughter!)

Crouse’s plaint is overwhelmingly concerned with the “bleak prospects for millions of young women who dream about a wedding day that may never come.” She gives absolutely no attention to the concerns, the worries, the fears, of the young men who are supposed to “man up” and marry these women; though after she’s gotten the bit in her teeth and ran with her sob-story for several paragraphs, she deigns to mention that feminism might have played a part.

But then she characterizes that “part” by feeding right back into the “evil evil men” syndrome, and declaring that “after decades of feminism … young men are now the ones who set the parameters for intimate relationships, and those increasingly do not include a wedding ring.” (So saith CNS News.)

And the rest of the article continues with the same man-shaming tone – that the problem with Society is that “Peter Pan boys don’t Man UP,” get married, and take their proper place on the Plantation. I’ve linked to the article above, and you’re welcome to explore it for yourself.

Excuse me, Sister Janice of the Order of Our Lady of Infinite Responsibility, but I have another explanation for the Lost Boys’ reluctance to join in the bonds of Holy Slavery, er, Matrimony.

Society used to take marriage seriously, and it was all about the marriage, not the Wedding.

Marriage was, indeed, a transition from “boy” (and “girl”) to adulthood. The partners in the wedding CONTRACT – and yes, even with the Separation of Church and State, it was a contract under civil law – agreed to conjoin their identities and combine their resources, “to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God’s holy ordinance …” (From the 1928 “Book Of Common Prayer” of the Episcopal (Anglican) Church – the vows my mother took when she married my father.) And the singer from the church choir would have sung “I Promise Thee” while the new Mister Newlywed slipped the gold ring onto the finger of his Blushing Bride. And they might have been intimidated by the breadth and solemnity of their vows – but well they should have been; marriage was supposed to be ‘forever.’

It isn’t that way any more – or, at least, not necessarily.

your-own-ceremony

Nowadays, the Church has far less say about the state of Holy Matrimony that is supposed to follow from the Bridezilla Wedding and the Awesome Honeymoon. Once the Bride and groom (use, or lack, of capitalization intentional) sign the State’s wedding contract, they are subject to State law – which is to say, to the standards and requirements and prejudices and sexist bigotry of the State Family Courts. And guess what? Those Family Courts, certainly not in the USA, are not part of the judicial system established by the Constitution of the United States. They are increasingly revealed as a law unto themselves – with White Knight judges who will discard any prior arrangement, prenuptual agreement, or police-rendered evidence, to make sure that “Ms. I’m-Not-Haaaaaappy” is coddled and cared-for in the Divorce Decree.

It sure-as-hell wasn’t that way when my mother divorced her husband in 1953. I’ve got the divorce decree in my fire-proof strong-box. The modern Cupcake gets everything – the house, the kids, child support, debt relief, et cetera, ad nauseam.

Why is it a surprise that the Modern Millenial Man sees this for the one-sided, man-shaming, man-blaming, man-plundering deal that it is – and refuses to take part in it?

If the TradCons would like to have even a Hail Mary prayer of fixing this, they’d better put their lobbying dollars into de-fanging our Family Court system. I am not holding my breath.

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I am old enough to remember flat, wooden-board swings in the playgrounds of my childhood. A flat wooden board wide enough for an adult’s hips, hanging on sturdy steel chains from a really high (to a child’s eyes) frame. A kid could really pump high on one of those swings, high enough to feel himself almost floating above the seat at the top of its arc, high enough that I never dared jump out of it at full swing. High enough to be scary; high enough that a fool or a daredevil could get hurt on it. Boy, they were fun.

I am young enough to remember when they swapped those wooden boards for thick flexible straps like little hammocks. They weren’t made for a kid to pump them, to swing high and feel the excitement. I couldn’t get a good swing out of them, anyways. They were made to keep a kid from falling off. They were ‘playground proofed’ to keep a kid safe – an admirable goal, I assume – but they had a hidden cost: A kid couldn’t fly high and get the thrill. And nowadays, when I look at playgrounds, I see that so much has been done to ‘keep a kid safe’ that it’s hardly possible for a kid to have fun on the stuff any more. They were designed for mommies, not for kids. And they’re deserted.

Well, it’s more than playgrounds that are ‘playground proofed’ nowadays. We find this same ‘protecting from consequences’ as a major, almost a prime, goal of modern society. What’s even more striking is that this ‘playground proofing’ is being conducted, directed, mandated, for the benefit of one class of people over another … a privileged class that has been historically protected from their bad choices, from their folly, from their mistakes and their consequences, by the other ‘class’ which were carefully taught the goal of keeping them safe, and warm, and comfy, taking care of their needs, and protecting them from harm, even if that meant protecting them from their own folly and not giving them the chance to learn from their consequences. But their bad choices and folly and mistakes have gotten so out-of-hand, their ‘needs’ so overblown, their demands so greedy and their complaints so outrageous, that more and more of the ‘underclass’ is turning its collective back on them and leaving their care and protection-from-folly to the hands of the Mommy State.

The name of the privileged class? Woman.

And the nature of the privilege, the protection, the coddling under the names of entitlement and empowerment, is such that it puts women into the role of the chronically childlike of our society – the children who don’t have to grow up emotionally, because the underclass – men – will be expected and shamed and even forced to carry their load.

This starts, remarkably, in the playgrounds and the schoolyards. Little boys are into rough-and-tumble games, and when little girls get into these games they’re prone to being rough-and-tumbled themselves. A little girl cries with a skinned knee – and the Adults are all over the boys with shaming and punishment. Never mind that Jill gave Jimmy a black eye, then danced away sing-songing, “Can’t hit a girl!”

Little Jimmy should be ashamed for earning that black eye. Obviously it’s the boys’ fault, no matter who started it. And if some games are too rough for the little girls, then the boys shouldn’t be allowed to play them either. Oh, and by the way – little Jill came home with that knee that she skinned on the blacktop. You need to put down a heavy soft layer of tanbark so that won’t happen again. And those swings aren’t safe, and that thing, and that, and the teeter-totter discriminates against heavy kids on one end and light kids on the other.

And little Jimmy, who worked off his energy in those now-banned boys’ games? He gets ‘diagnosed’ with ADHD because he can’t sit still any more. He’s fed Ritalin to make him sit still, never mind that he’s listless.

Along about puberty there’s a new game in town. The boys get interested, and the girls get interesting. It used to be a father’s job to protect his Little Red Riding Hood from all the Big Bad Wolves showing up at the family door … but now so many Fathers have been excluded from their children’s lives that the State has to step in and playground proof the innocent young things from harm (or, rather, from their own folly). More entitlement, empowerment and protection for the young ladies, while the boys are blamed and shamed and punished for just having gone along with the young ladies’ lead. I mean, now Sheila is old enough to dress up and make herself up like those ‘Bratz’ dolls she played with as a kid. How can it be her fault that Sam got a little fresh with her at the high-school dance?

Shiela can come-on to her heart’s content, but she is “proofed” from the consequences of her actions. Mommy State to the rescue, with laws and rules and regulations that penalize the boys in the name of protecting the girls.

Then you get to that magical stage – adulthood! There’s another wild and delicious game in town, now, called ‘alcohol.’ Bonnie can get that delicious dizzy feeling she used to get, spinning in the playground, out of a glass. And it makes the sensations of kissing and getting all-snuggly with a boy even more delicious. The Bratz costume is even more effective as bait, now that she’s got real curves to pack into it, and she’s getting lots of attention from the boys – from all of the boys, drat it, not just the ‘Big Man On Campus’ she really wants to hook.

Back in my college days, if Bonnie woke up in Ben’s dorm room, Gentle Ben, rather than in Dirk Studly’s, it was embarrassing and disappointing.

Now, it’s date-rape. And when she goes to the Campus police about it, Ben gets kicked out of the university – no trial, no questions, no chance to defend himself, and anyway, all his defenses amount to guilt in the eyes of the Powers That Be. Remember, ‘Dear Colleagues,’ it is your duty to protect Bonnie from harm, or harassment, or an unwanted kiss from the wrong guy. She’s not a ‘bad girl,’ after all, even if she was wearing the uniform, talking the talk and walking the walk.

And it goes on like that, out of college and into adult life. Women are insulated from the consequences of their actions, and they can and do reap untold benefits from the actions of the men around them. ‘Can’t hit a girl,’ with all the insane bias that implies, gets enacted into the Law of the Land, with the Violence Against Women Act in the USA, the Australian Government’s National Plan to Reduce Violence against Women and their Children (The Plan); the misandric legislation of dozens of countries, designed to protect women at the cost of punishing men – down to the point of harnessing them to be financial draft-animals, the economic slaves, of women and the Nanny State that so carefully protects its own.

Actions have consequences.

Playground proofing has consequences, too. The consequence is that the boys are leaving the playground – leaving its padded girl-friendly surfaces, its consequence-free zones, the shaming and blaming of the supervisors, to go play somewhere else.

They’re growing up to be boys who don’t trust girls, men who are more and more likely not to pursue or hook up with women, or who do so only with the intention of sexual relief; men who are choosing not to ‘man up’ but to ‘man out’ and leave the protected, pampered, coddled, ‘empowered and entitled,’ spoiled brats in adult bodies, to face their own consequences – alone.

A tip of the hat to Dr. Tara Palmatier of shrink4men.com for coining the term “playground proofing” and inspiring this article.

(This article was originally published by to A Voice For Men; their version is here.)

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I went to visit my Dear Auntie this afternoon, and to take her out to lunch, to a restaurant she enjoyed when she still had sense enough to enjoy it. I parked in the garage below her ‘assisted-living’ residence, carded myself into the access stairwell, punched the code to gain access to the first floor and the stairwells, and punched another code to gain access to her floor in Memory Care. Then I went down to her room, gently but firmly directed one of her neighbors (a man who didn’t seem to have any idea of much of anything) to sit down where he wouldn’t be in Dear Auntie’s way, and knocked on the door to her room.

“I’m so glad to see you. Where’s the other Ricky?” she asked.

I’m damned if I know, Dear Auntie.

There have been a goodly number of people in my life who have acted as if to persuade me to fetch out, to deliver, ‘the other Ricky.’  They have ranged from people who sought out a more assertive, more macho Ricky, to those who sought out a more accommodating, more supplicating, more pussy-begging Ricky, to those who simply sought out a Ricky who would cast himself loose from his mother’s apron-strings. Then there was my mother, who rejected the very idea of a Ricky who might have his own desires, independent of her needs and wants and wishes.

It is fifteen days short of the tenth anniversary of my mother’s death; pretty close to the tenth anniversary of the day her last best friend, Pat, and Pat’s husband Jake, went to lunch with us on the last day my mother was able to do so. Pretty close to the day we went out for a ride, and she asked to see our airplane the Snowbird, and I pulled up close to its propeller and she patted it goodbye.

I am hurting, to hear my Mom’s sister ask ‘where is the other Ricky.’ It hurts when I wonder, who on Earth or beyond it could indeed be ‘the other Ricky?’ Her brother? Her son? Her imaginary playmate, in the cloudy impenetrable maze of her own dementia?

We went to lunch at the restaurant she’d loved best in the last months of her sanity. Becky, our friend among the waitresses there, found us a table adjoining her area, and she brought her own supper to that table after she ended her own shift. She was oh-so-kindly to my Dear Auntie, while she ate her dinner and Dear Auntie fumbled around with the ice-cream that I’d brought her after she finished her proper meal.

I don’t know how long I’ll be able to be Dear Auntie’s ‘other Ricky’. I do hope that I will be able to progress from that, to a reality and a space where it won’t matter who I am … and, as Jimmy Buffett sang it in One Particular Harbor, “when I see the day when my hair’s full gray, and I finally disappear.”

There ain’t room for two of me in Dear Auntie’s life, or in any life I can envision for myself after Dear Auntie shuffles off this mortal coil and Goes West.

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For the last five years, Vladek Filler of Ellsworth, Maine, has been fighting for his freedom, against a corrupt, misandric prosecutor who tried to get him imprisoned for rape, on evidence that amounted to little more than the ‘she said’ testimony of his bitter, estranged wife. Hancock County Assistant DA Mary Kellett’s chicanery in prosecuting – or may I say ‘persecuting’ – Mr. Filler has gotten more than local, but national and even worldwide attention, and it raised enough of an outcry that the Maine Bar could not ignore it; she faces a hearing for prosecutorial misconduct at the end of August. Mr. Filler is the plaintiff in this matter, and he is scheduled to testify in Kellett’s hearing.

During that selfsame time, Vladek Filler will be incarcerated in Hancock County for the one charge Kellett was able to make stick – allegedly throwing a glassful of water on his then-wife, Ligia Filler. He will be in the control of the prosecutorial office where Kellett has been serving up this style of justice. How convenient … for Kellett, and her like-minded boss, Carletta Bassano, who has been doing all she can to shield Kellett from the scrutiny and discipline she deserves.

I fear that the timing of Vladek Filler’s sentence was set up so he can be bullied and intimidated out of giving testimony in the Kellett hearing. I fear that there is an unchecked culture of corruption in the Hancock County prosecutor’s office, and there has been ample evidence of misandrist behavior on the part of this office in the past.

In fact, I fear for Vladek Filler’s safety, if he is being held in Hancock County at the time of Kellett’s hearing before the Maine Board of Overseers of the Bar. Having him there would provide far too easy an opportunity for ‘something to happen’ to him, denying him his voice in the hearing.

Vladek Filler’s conviction should be overturned and stricken from the record. Absent that, he should be pardoned, in view of the suffering he has been put through by Kellett and her boss.

At the very least, his incarceration should be postponed until after the Kellett case is closed. If the Hancock County authorities won’t permit that, then his treatment and condition in there hands MUST be strictly and closely monitored by State officials who are not affiliated with the Hancock County prosecutor’s office, the Ellsworth Police Department, or any other local law enforcement agency.

There appears to be an unchecked culture of corruption, a culture of misandric behavior and persecution of men, in the Hancock County District Attorney’s office. They have Vladek Filler in their clutches, and I fear for his safety.

More information can be found in Gentlemen, Start Your Keyboards, A Voice for Men, 3 August 2012.

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Keyster, a frequent commenter on several mens’-rights blogs, came out with this thought-provoking statement a while back. If I remember correctly, this was on The Spearhead:

If men are purely optional to women, then why can’t women be purely optional to men?

Because independent women are heroes.
And independent men are zeroes.

A man “needs” a woman.
A woman doesn’t need “any” man.

“A woman doesn’t need ‘any’ man” …?

I have seen a few women, in my life, who “didn’t need a man.” The only one who really stands out in my mind is my mother … and that, chiefly because she raised me without a dad.

I learned, from my mother, and my grandmother (the materfamilias of our household), that “men aren’t necessary.” This I learned by example, because I didn’t have a male role-model to “help me become a man.” Yeah, I’ve got the Y-chromosome and the danglies that go with it, but does that make me … more than just a “male” … a MAN? Read on, and judge for yourself….

I learned, after I left high-school and went to the seminary of the church where Mom had paid-up enough money for me to take the “Minister’s Program,” that my biological urges were something to be “transcended.” I’d learned this since age 12, when my gonads changed … but the Spiritual Call was supposed to flatten out my sexual urges and transmute me into an Androgynous Neutered Advanced-Being Spiritual Counselor. I did my very flat-out best to accommodate to this ukase. Honestly, truthfully, faithfully I did, and I have no idea who might have been shtupping the women I was counselling, honestly, truthfully, faithfully, really I don’t!!  I only know that I didn’t touch them.

I learned, from my religion, that I was a spiritual being who was damn-well supposed to be beyond sex.  Especially because I was in-training to be a Spiritual Counselor … and never the hell mind that my real father, not the guy whose name was on my birth-certificate, was the “exception that proves the rule” that a Spiritual Counselor in my religion was ordered to keep his paws the hell off his “preclears!”  I comported myself in accordance with the demands. I kept my own zipper zipped and locked, in accordance with The Auditor’s Code. I didn’t get ordained, though, and I didn’t do my internship, because I couldn’t afford to go on with them – I needed to get a job.

Certainly, I was a Zero when I left them and started work as a “Technical Aide” with the Federal Government. No glory in that, just a paycheck.

Some years later, I graduated past “being a Zero” with a couple of women. One of them was far, far more experienced than me “in the clinches” … the next was less-so, but circumstances after our first time eventually changed our romance into a Let’s-Just-Be-Friends situation. How swiftly I went from being her Hero … to being just another Zero.

Meanwhile, Society itself was being reshaped, to reduce men at large from Heroes … to Zeroes.

The first great reshaping was started by the Vietnam War. The previous wars in the public’s memory had been serious conflicts, taken seriously; the veterans of World War II and Korea were treated as heroes, as were the “boys in blue” of the Air Force, on the front line of the cold war. But many did not see Vietnam in that same light; and too many of the boys who got back from that campaign were treated with contempt. Treated as zeroes.

Then came the “Women’s Liberation” movement. It seemed to a lot of men that it was mostly about women liberating their vilest bad nature. The party line was that women wanted all the “privilege” they saw as being enjoyed by men – equal pay in the office, equal opportunity at the hiring time, equal access to college, to loans, to mortgages, to professions. They wanted to break down all the “artificial differences,” and ignore the differences that can’t be broken down because they’re hard-wired into male and female nature. Oh, and they made it clear that they regarded most men as “the enemy” and the top-rankers as “the competition.” They demoted a whole lot more men from heroes to zeroes.

Next came the revolution in divorce law, the “No-Fault” divorce – which is more accurately labeled as the “His-Fault” model. Along with stripping the husband of his kids, his rights, his house and most of his money in the settlement, the goal of this system is to strip all men of their last shreds of “equal treatment under the law.” And of equal compassion under Society. This stage is still ongoing, but meeting with stiffer resistance as more men recognize the battle and join forces against the new tyranny – the tyrants whose rabble march in slut-walks, or cheer as manginas from the sidelines.

I won’t bother to recount the way I went “from Hero to Zero” with either of the two following American Women on my roster, nor speak of the couple of chicas in South America who offered me their favors. I will say this: By the time I was 50 years old, I had accepted that I would never again be a Hero, and I would forever more be a Zero to the ladies.

My last couple of attempts to reach “the sweetness” have been with women who were completely and entirely incentivized by my money. Cash at the counterpane, dearie. Call them prostitutes, as they are, but you of the Femmunist Brigades will call me much worse. You’re already blaming me, and my fellow men, for the fact that some women are willing to trade their sexual favors for a man’s money; under the “Swedish model” you would jail, and prosecute, and fine, and imprison the man who offers his own hard-earned money for an hour of “the sweetness we’ve been dying for.”

A Voice for Men put it well in Male sexuality, un-demonized (4 May 2012):

We starve men, then shame them for their hunger and then when they reach for what little food is within their grasp, we smack their hand away.

The pessimist in me sees this as the final chapter in the old tale of the “battle of the sexes.” That battle is over for me, and I have left the gene pool. I am preparing to depart the land of my birth, and seek refuge from the craziness in another land. Maybe I will follow Odysseus, and Joshua Slocum, and others who have sailed away and finally vanished from human ken.

We men are less than Zero in your view, aren’t we?

I, for one, have ZERO (in honor of my social status) for you.

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