The invitation to emasculation

Hawaiian Libertarian responded to the Superbowl commercial that relegates men to the garage. The one with the sad litany of masculine submission. Dave writes his own litany showing what “this commercial would be like if it were based on a Man who understands what HEAD OF THE HOUSEHOLD means”:

You need to start getting up and walking the dog at 6:30am…you’re starting to look a little hefty…you wouldn’t want to turn into one of those people of walmart cows?!

You will add some fruit to my breakfast that you are cooking…but DON’T overcook the eggs.

I will shave…I will clean the sink after I shave as well as that clump of your hair out of the bathroom drain…because as the MAN, I realize that the nasty, dirty jobs are MY job around here…and while I do all the things you simply cannot bear to do, like haul the garbage, kill the rodents and insects and yes, clean hair clogs out of drains, you should be cooking me some food or washing the dishes and not complaining about how you “Do Everything Around Here!” Because you don’t.

…

You can read the rest at his post. The HEAD OF HOUSEHOLD riff is a great idea, but between it and the execution falls the shadow. The shadow of a defensive, bitter beta. I can say that because his responses sound more like me (as I used to be), and less like Dave in Hawaii.

I once was a defensive, bitter beta, but I got better. I rewrote his litany in the style of HEAD OF HOUSEHOLD I’m trying to become. Originally posted in the comments to the article, my list is just amusing enough to repost here.

I will get up and walk the dog at 6:30am.

You should walk the dog in the morning. You don’t want to end up on People of Wal-Mart.

I will eat fruit as a part of my breakfast.

Don’t forget to give me fruit in the morning. I’ve been a little constipated. Remember how I like my eggs, too.

I will shave…I will clean the sink after I shave.

Hey, don’t worry about those shower-kitties you’ve been leaving. I’m collecting them so you can make a doll for the girl.

I will be at work by 8 am…I will sit through 2 hour meetings.

Woman, I’ve got one of those two-hour meetings today. You know what that means. Yes, the sheer thingy. NO, you will not be wearing panties. Are you new here?

I will say yes when you want me to say yes.

“Yes” is for women. Let’s practice: Take off your pants.

I will be quiet when you don’t want to hear me say no.

If you don’t want to hear me say “no”, take off your clothes, or make me a sandwich. Or both. Yeah, both.

I will take your call

Why are you calling me during the day? How do you know I’m not with my mistress? Bet you never thought about that. Is anybody hurt? No? You owe me some naked. Bye.

I will listen to your opinion of my friends.

I will repeat your opinion of my friends to them, and we will share a good laugh.

I will listen to your friends opinions of my friends.

I will flirt with your friends.

I will be civil to your mother.

I will ignore your mother and make friends with your father.

I will put the seat down

I will put the seat down until you’re not expecting it.

I will separate the recycling.

Recycling is immoral. Seriously, it’s economically inefficient. You care about the poor, don’t you?

I will carry your lip balm.

Lip balm. Does it tingle? Yeah, put that on.

I will watch your vampire TV shows with you.

I’m cancelling the cable. Buy me a Blue-ray of LOST already.

I will take my socks off before getting into bed.

Wench, your cooking made me gassy. You’re going to have to clean the sheets.

I will put my underwear in the basket.

I will put my underwear in the basket from across the room, in a perfect arc, pumping my fist and slapping your ass in triumph.

And because I do this, I will drive the car, I want to drive.

When we’re driving in my Malibu, it’s easy to get right next to you.

Vox Hierarchy applied to Winnie the Pooh

Vox Day’s male social hierarchy

Alpha:

“natural self-confidence and strength of character”

Christopher Robin. He is on top of the world, not threatened by toys and woodland creatures, though if there were other boys in the stories, we would see him in competition.

Tigger is an Alpha of the carefree variety.

Beta:

“the lieutenants, the petty aristocracy”

Rabbit from the books. Rabbit knows how to get things done. He takes very good care of his friends-and-relations. He understands the hierarchy and his place in it.

Delta:

“the great majority of men”

Winnie the Pooh.

Owl, perhaps, though he has some Gamma tendencies.

Gamma:

“the obsequious ones, the posterior puckerers, the nice guys who attempt to score through white-knighting, faux-chivalry, flattery, and omnipresence”

Piglet

“Gammas who find themselves in charge almost invariably behave like petty, micromanaging dictators; Gamma male behavior is very similar to normal female behavior in a lot of ways.”

Rabbit from the Disney abominations. When he thinks he’s in power, he’s a petty tyrant.

Omega:

“the losers…. That which doesn’t kill them can make them stronger, but most never surmount the desperate need to belong caused by their social rejection. … [T]he pain of their constant rejection renders the suffering of others completely meaningless in their eyes.”

Eeyore from the books.

Sigma:

“the lone wolves”

Heffalumps. Possibly also Woozles.

She deserves a hard pounding

My wife served me this for dinner. Smothered pork, glazed carrots, and grilled asparagus. It was great.

Later, as I read to the children, she completely cleaned out the boys’ room. “Completely” as in: the only contents left are two beds and the clothes in their closet. Earlier today the ambulatory children built a rubble pile in the middle of that room from bookshelves, toys, mattresses, and various other objects. Katie discovered it when Fauntleroy started bawling, having scraped himself falling off the rubble pile.

Our children have far too many toys. Because I do not clean up after the children, this is Katie’s problem, not mine. For at least a couple of years I have observed, when she complains, that the only way she will find peace is to take away 90% of the toys. Tonight she exceeded my expectations.

Katie was putting Becky to bed when I saw the naked room. I opened the door and interrupted:

Eumaios: “What you did to the boys’ room [pause] It’s great. You deserve a hard pounding.”

Katie: “Thank you!”

It’s true. She does.

Digression Cascade

Yet another coined term. I made this one up in the comments to an Alkibiades post about women and their feelings.

Years before I figured out the manliness thing, I let my wife know that if she starts running on about something in a digression cascade, I will make her stop, think about what she wants to say, and summarize. She was very upset by this mandate initially, and I solemnly threw gasoline on the flames by telling her that she needs to take control of her narratives now, lest she start talking like her mother. Very amusing. Now all I have to do is interrupt with a firm, but gentle “Summarize,” and she stops, thinks, and makes it brief. Sometimes she even thanks me.

The inspiration was ESR’s post today on the concept of an error cascade.

In medical jargon, an “error cascade” is something very specific: a series of escalating errors iin diagnosis or treatment, each one amplifying the effect of the previous one. This is a well established term in the medical literature: this abstract is quite revealing about the context of use.

There’s a slightly different term, information cascade, which is used to describe the propagation of beliefs and attitudes through crowd psychology. Information cascades occur because humans are social animals and tend to follow the behavior of those around them. When the social incentives are right, humans will substitute the judgment of others for their own.

A useful, related concept is preference falsification, the act of misrepresenting one’s desires or beliefs under perceived social pressures. Preference falsification amplifies informational cascades — humans don’t just substitute the judgment of others for their own, they talk themselves into beliefs most around them don’t actually hold but have become socially convinced they should claim to hold!

I use the term “error cascade” in a meaning halfway between the restricted sense of the medical literature and “information cascade”, and I apply it specifically to a kind of bad science, especially bad science recruited in public-policy debates. A scientific error cascade happens when researchers substitute the reports or judgment of more senior and famous researchers for their own, and incorrectly conclude that their own work is erroneous or must be trimmed to fit a “consensus” view.

Own the Future

From a post at the Occidental Quarterly:

Recently, I attended an engagement party for a young couple. Both come from homeschool families. The prospective groom comes from a family of eight, and the attendees at the party were largely from the same pool of evangelical homeschoolers. At the table where my wife and I sat, one couple had four children and another couple had nine children, seven girls and two boys. The mother of the nine said to my wife, “I think it’s good for them to have so many siblings and help out with the babies because it helps them develop the sense of self-sacrifice they’ll need to be a good wife and mom.” My wife and I have three children and plan to have at least one more; never would I have thought that my goal of four would sound paltry in any dinner party group.

This, my friends, is the future of Western Civilization; when moms are helping their daughters to develop a sense of “self-sacrifice” to serve their husbands, we have arrived at a total rejection of feminism. These are the only white communities with aggressive birthrates, people who are having children like they own the future. Not mindless breeding like the lower classes, but intelligent, middle class white people intentionally having as many children as they can. The fathers have authority over their children, as most practice courtship, in which any potential suitor must ask permission to spend time with a daughter.

We will be the fathers of nations. A small archipelago of nations in flyover country, but that’ll do.

Meet Hump

My friend Hump started blogging today. He asks some questions about Roissy’s Sixteen Commandments from the perspective of a Christian whose eyes are newly freed of scales.

I really appreciate and learn a lot from these insights. I have questions about some of it though:

II. Make her jealous
Flirt with other women after marriage? And what when my wife flirts with other men? I get to flirt and she doesn’t? A double standard which I don’t bother explaining because that’s the way it works? She gets to flirt and I get to learn how to respond to her flirting?

Desert Eagle synchronicity

MPM:

All but the most down girls will run the other way if you leave your Desert Eagle out on your Isamu Noguchi table with Ski Masks. Surprisingly, I have even used this on fly girls that have dated sons of famous, and I mean, historically famous Organized Crime figures. To great effect.

Vox Day:

Terry [Pratchett] can already die at any time he likes. He can walk out in front of an onrushing truck today. He can blow out his brains with a .50 Desert Eagle tomorrow. Alternatively, next Thursday he can walk into one of the many mosques of Londonistan and wave around a penciled caricature of a certain individual who is not under any circumstances to be depicted. The motto: “My life, my death, my choice” is not only misleading, it is a cowardly evasion of the obvious. It is the cry of a stricken man who is afraid to kill himself and prefers for someone else to be able to take the responsibility later without experiencing any legal repercussions.

Grrl power:

Quitter in Chief

Early in 2009, I predicted (privately to friends) that Barack Obama would resign before the end of his first term. He and his displayed such incompetence during the transfer of power that the idea was at least plausible, as well as funny. Over the past year, as Obama slathered thick layers of ineptitude on a tall stack of inaptitude, the thought of an early resignation has become less farcical.

Now I see Nicholas Stix over at VDare reporting on a variety of sources suggesting that Obama may give up early. Stix is not sanguine about the prospect, but then he hasn’t given up on the United States yet. Even if this proves to be base speculation, it is still a beautiful thing. The first affirmative action president quitting would be great theater, and what else is the feral government good for?

I can think of only one thing better than Obama resigning, and that is for him to turn out to be a neo-anarchist sleeper who is using the high office intentionally to destroy the trust of Americans in their government.

Two! Two Haters!

This one’s funnier than the other one. And she says “fuck”.

How fucking dare you. OP and anyone who found delight in the misery – not only of someone who was so distraught and lost that they chose to take their own life – but of those who still struggle to understand, accept and move forward.

Rachel was my friend, and if you were standing in front of me right now, I would likely physically fucking hurt you. How would YOU feel if someone took the time to write something as pathetic and insensitive as this slop (which you likely consider talent) about someone you cared for?

You piece of shit; YOU are the cliche. And you’re lucky you have the Internet to hide behind.

I respond in the comments. Phillipa is almost certainly a drive-by, but wouldn’t it be great if she engaged?

The Disastrous Experiment

Women’s suffrage, of course. Why aren’t you reading Vox Day already?

I think every male politician in America should resign his office and let the womenfolk run things for as long as they want to do so. Because that will be the fastest and easiest way to end the disastrous women’s suffrage experiment that I can imagine. There are two words that describe a matriarchal society and those two words are “grass huts”.

Matriarxist

A word I just made up.

Another Vox Day thread turned into a discussion of rape. Here I attempt to explain why date rape does not exist

Rape is forced sexual intercourse on a woman, effected by means of violence or threat of violence. If this happens during a date, it is rape. If it happens during an evening jog, it is rape. If it happens en masse during her weekly Bunco game, it is rape. We don’t stick on modifiers for these other situations (although En Masse Bunco Rape has a certain je ne sais quoi). Why bother calling an event Date Rape?

The answer is that the matriarxists are trying to steal a march. The term “date rape” is primarily used in reference to events that do not fall under the “violence or threat of violence” definition of rape. Among other things, an accusation of date rape serves as a kind of morning-after pill. Slut’s remorse.

Vox does it better, and without the snarky.

It is a manufactured term that a young woman may use in order to claim having been raped by a man with whom she is acquainted, and usually, someone with whom she consented to be alone. In the overwhelming majority of “date rape” cases it is extraordinarily difficult to prove that date rape is actual rape by any conventional criminal standard since there is seldom any evidence for it.

More casually, date rape is when the woman has post-coital regrets for her actions

In a sane society, consent to be alone with a man would be considered consent to intercourse.

Howsoever all that may be, this post is about the word “matriarxist”. Good? Bad? Cheesy?

Evil Bitch Defeated in Massachusetts

Did any of you know that Martha Coakley was one of the psychotic cunts who helped keep Gerald Amirault in prison? Me, neither, until I read this MND article.

Dorothy Rabinowitz, on the other hand, has done yeowoman’s work on the behalf of the Amiraults.

Women’s Suffrage

Hot Air notes something interesting about a recent poll for the Massachusetts Senate race:

Coakley and Brown split the women’s vote, 46% each. Brown has a 30-point advantage with men, a 30-point advantage among self-professed moderates, and a 20-point advantage among voters younger than 45. Any one of those findings are shocking in major races in or out of Massachusetts, but all of them put together spells disaster for Democrats, and not just in this special election.

All of them put together spells REPEAL THE 19TH AMENDMENT.

But listen to this hogwash from Hot Air’s source:

What seems to tip the race in Brown’s favor most is his popularity among Moderates, Independents, and men, and Coakley’s lack of an advantage among women. Brown nearly doubles Coakley’s total among Moderates, 62% – 32%, and has an even bigger margin among Independents, 64% – 26%. There’s also a one-way gender effect that favors Brown, who holds a nearly two-to-one lead over Coakley among men while women are split evenly between the two candidates. Brown does best among white voters, while Coakley leads among non-whites, suggesting that minority turnout may play a crucial role on election day. Brown is also leading among all age groups.

91% of those surveyed were white. Brown leads with whites. Coakley leads among the remaining 9%. Brown leads among all age groups. Brown’s obliterating Coakley with moderates and independents and young people. But the source says that Coakley’s lack of advantage among women tips the race to Brown.

So: all other groups are tipping 2-to-1 for Brown, but women not overwhelmingly voting for Coakley is an important factor?

Charge of Sexual Deviance

How is it that the Catalogue of Anti-Male Shaming Tactics does not have an entry for “You must have a small penis”? Or my new favorite: “Did you come all over her face, in your mind’s eye, after all that? Wank, wank.” Here’s my suggestion.

Charge of Abnormality (Code Pearl) – The Sexual Deviance Charge

Discussion: The target is accused of sexual perversion or inadequacy.

1. “You must have a small penis.”
2. “I bet you imagined ejaculating on her face while you wrote that.”

Response:

1. “I must bow to your greater experience.”
2. “I can think of better uses for my seed.”

Little Sister

Elvis as beta:

Little sister, don’t you kiss me once or twice
Then say it’s very nice
And then you run
Little sister, don’t you
Do what your big sister done

Is this a warning, or a plea?

Well, I dated your big sister
And took her to a show
I went for some candy

Mistake 1: paying for a date.

Along came Jim Dandy
And they snuck right out of the door

Mistake 2: leaving her alone. Never do that, man.

Every time I see your sister
Well she’s got somebody new
She’s mean and she’s evil
Like that old Boll Weevil
Guess I’ll try my luck with you

Hope springs eternal for the beta whiner.

Well, I used to pull your pigtails
And pinch your turned-up nose

Not a bad start. Your basic pre-adolescent negging/kino combination.

But you been a growin’
And baby, it’s been showin’
From your head down to your toes

Makeup, cleavage, painted toenails? Don’t you know those are warning signs? Run, Elvis, run before it’s too late. Or else you’ll soon be singing Don’t Be Cruel.

You Look Like an Angel

You look like an Angel,
Walk like an angel,
Talk like an angel,
But I got wise.
You’re the devil in disguise.
Oh, yes you are
The devil in disguise.
You fooled me with your kisses.
You cheated and you schemed.
Heaven knows how you lied to me.
You’re not the way you seemed.

I thought that I was in heaven,
But I was sure surprised.
Heaven help me, I didn’t see
The devil in your eyes.

I started using this as Katie’s ringtone a few weeks ago. Now all the kids love the song. Katie doesn’t find this as funny as I do.