Something entirely unexpected has happened. Something that, when I started this blog, I could not possible have anticipated.
SOMEONE ACTUALLY WENT AND READ THIS CRAP!
Okay, so it’s not the first time, exactly. I’ve cunningly left links here and there, as traps for the unwary to stumble upon, and every so often I see that someone has clicked one of them. But what I can’t see is whether they spent any time here, or whether they just took one look, decided it looked stupid, and closed the window.
But no, this guy apparently read the whole thing and made a post about it. Which actually caused me to get more views in a day than I’ve gotten in the preceding four months, so thanks for that, mate.
His opinion of me is… mixed. He distances himself from my general insanity, while still expressing admiration for how I express that insanity. For some reason, that tickles my ego more than gushing praise would have. Ohhhhhh yeah, I’m a provocative and controversial thinker, me. You may not like what you see, but you can’t bring yourself to look away!
The reason I bring this up is that it’s another example of the type of writing voice that I wish I knew how to adopt, one that makes a lot of incisive points while at the same time sounding so carelessly and outspokenly feisty. He doesn’t sound like he had to labor much at writing his screeds in such a polished manner – they appear to just flow onto the paper.
Aw, chucks. I don’t know, I have a lot of feelings and I’ve spent a lot of time trying to learn how to express them? I’m glad I apparently succeed.
I do go back and edit a little before publishing a post, mind you – looking for typos and adding clarifications and erasing things that seem, in retrospect, too deranged or mean-spirited. (yes, even in comparison to the deranged and mean-spirited stuff that does make it to publication! I know, I know, marvel at the concept!) But most of it is just stream-of-consciousness writing, yes.
what with the spitting hatred of feminism that drips from almost every paragraph
I would protest the description, but let’s be honest here: in using the term “spitting,” he exercised great restraint to not use the term “foaming-at-the-mouth”… Look, I feel strongly on the issue of feminists being awful, okay?!
He doesn’t let opposing tribes off the hook though in their contribution to Humanity Being Hopelessly Terrible; he spends a good bit of time blasting Trump, MRAs, and anti-feminists in general.
For what it’s worth, if I seem to hate feminism more than those other malefactors, it’s because feminism is so close to getting it right. Feelings are important, inequality is bad (and yes, damn right I want equality of outcome rather than equality of opportunity – the outcome is what actually matters!), conflict is to be avoided, diversity is desirable… all things that feminists seem to understand that the louts on the other side do not. And then they take that understanding and throw it away in favour of a campaign of passive-aggressive harassment against the people who deserve it the least. Yes, that makes me madder than Trump pissing all over me at every turn, though that makes me mad too – from that orange gorilla I never expected anything better, but feminists are supposed to get it!
I mean, you will not in my writing see passages like this under any circumstances (context: certain critics of a particular game which is the one thing he actually praises in his entire blog):
“I lack the words to describe my sheer loathing of these people. Or rather, I have the words, but they’re not civilised words. The fact that I am not even now penning lurid death threats to the excuse for a human being who wrote that criticism is a testament to my self-control and high moral character.”
Hey now, that’s not fair.
I mean, I’m not sure why video games is the only thing in the whole world that isn’t uniformly awful, especially since the video game industry is supposedly corrupt and dysfunctional to the core, but all the same… despite being caught between one horde of morons screeching “I AM VICTIMISED BY THERE NOT BEING ENOUGH TITS!!!” and another horde of morons screeching “I AM VICTIMISED BY THERE BEING TOO MANY TITS!!!”, many video game companies somehow manage to keep producing games with interesting characters and evocative storylines (and a moderate and reasonable amount of tits). I feel a little embarrassed even saying that, because liking things is very uncool and all, but… yeah.
As for my, ahem, somewhat unflattering remark about video game journalists… Look, it’s like this. I love video games and all, as per above, but most of them are pretty clearly marketed towards man-children. Nothing wrong with that, I’m a man-child and I deserve to have some stuff marketed to me, but when feminists complain that video game plots frequently read like they were written by someone who has never met a woman in real life, it’s hard not to feel just the tiniest bit guilty as charged.
And then something like Life is Strange comes along, and it’s beautiful, and it tells a woman’s story and makes you empathise completely with her struggles and her goals and her sheer unvarnished personhood, and you think, “how sweet, how perfect, how wonderful, finally a game I can feel genuinely proud about playing, finally there will be at least one thing I and the feminists can join together in love of.” And you go online to talk about it, and you find…
The feminists managed to get triggered by it.
The feminists managed to get triggered by it.
THE GODDAMN FEMINISTS GODDAMN MANAGED TO GET GODDAMN TRIGGERED BY IT!!!
You mention H.L. Menchen in your post? Well… for me, realising that the feminists were going to shame me even for playing this game was a “raise the black flag and start slitting throats” moment for me!
it’s essentially one long rant on how his way of thinking uniquely Correct and Virtuous
Yeah, well, it IS!
and the rest of the humanity – in particular on all sides of today’s culture wars – is hopelessly and offensively wrongheaded.
Yeah, well, they ARE!
And the best part is that he fully acknowledges this by masterfully deprecating his own self-righteous-pity-fest tone just often enough to allow us to take him seriously while simultaneously recognizing that he doesn’t take himself too seriously.
This is actually a great relief to hear. Because yes, that’s certainly how I try to come across. I have a lot of feelings and they all deserve to be expressed, but where I differ from the average loudmouth is that I know (in direct contrast to the above protestations, yes) that having feelings don’t give me any unique insights into the world or grant me any special authority.
And that’s a constant balancing act. All the bluster of this blog is meant to keep me from sliding down the trap of “no one cares what I think, so I might as well cease to exist.” The occasional self-deprecation is meant to keep me from sliding down the opposite trap of “I don’t care what anyone else thinks, so I might just go off and live in my personal fantasy land and lose all touch with reality.” I mean, in theory I should be able to achieve the same thing by saying only measured and reasonable things, but I just don’t seem to be wired to allow that. Wobbling back and forth between two extreme options is the only way I’ve ever found that lets me exercise moderation. It’s a fraught method, so yeah, it’s a relief to hear that it seems to be working.
Also, “self-righteous-pity-fest” is probably how I’d describe my tone, too. Intentionally and unabashedly so, mind you!
Meanwhile, he defends himself against the ubiquitous criticism of “Why do you care so much what others think of you?” in an easy and elegant way that speaks to how I’ve always felt on the matter myself – while I certainly don’t endorse a lot of the object-level beliefs appearing in the content of the blog, this point alone (and the way it’s expressed) gains me a good bit of empathy for this blogger on the whole.
I’m not sure if he’s saying here that I come across as sympathetic or just as pathetic.
… eh, hell with it, I’ll take it regardless!
I’m often critical of feminism myself, except that I feel the need to specify each time that my judgment is aimed at specific strains of rhetoric coming from some feminists in some modern subcultures and apply the Principal of Charity (or at least Empathy) to even those.
Speaking seriously for a moment, I respect that. I really do. It’s just… I feel like I’ve spent the better part of my life giving way to feminism. I used to be a big fan, if you can believe it. And not because feminists didn’t criticise men and manhood, but because I in large parts agreed with them that there was entirely too much testosterone sloshing about and it was an absolute shame that half the human race got so much less than half the representation. And they told me one thing I must do to help them, and I agreed, and they told me another thing I must do to help them and I agreed, and a third thing, and a fourth, and every time I grumbled a bit but then changed my ways to accommodate them, because damn it, it was just the right thing to do…
And then one day, the thing I had to do to help them was agree that I was a horrible rapey monstrosity that all women rightly lived in fear of. And people who I’d known for years, people who I thought were my friends, were absolutely horrified when I refused to throw out any claim to self-worth or a right to exist, because didn’t I realise that women absolutely NEEDED me to declare that I was worthless scum who was a blight on half the human race?!
So with all due, and considerable, respect for your approach, viewpoint and principles… no. No Charity, and no Empathy. Not for feminists. Not until they admit that I’m not a monster and that they were wrong to say that I was. If there are indeed different strains of feminism, then I’ll happily accept as my allies any strains that declare that a) one or more other strains did in fact call me a monster, and b) those strains were wrong to do so. They can claim that it was never them who said it, I promise to accept that claim as true even though I suspect it’d be more like a half-truth, but they do have to admit that it happened and that it was wrong.
Simply put, I gave way to feminists until my back was to the edge of a cliff. If I refuse to give another inch, it is because I have no further inches to give – if I take another step back, I will fall to my death. And given my history of depression and suicidal ideation, that may not be at all figurative.
But every once in a while, I read something like what I found in This Is Me and wish I could go throw off the shackles of such considerations so that getting on my soapbox could be that much fun.
To speak unseriously for a moment: do it! Doooo iiiiiit! Join the Dark Side! We have cookies!
Okay, probably not. Not if you are trying to effectively argue for your point and try to get others to share it, at least. This blog is an act of self-indulgent self-expression, built at least partly on the assumption that no one’s going to listen to me or take me seriously anyway so I might as well scream and shout and rant like a crazy person just to get it all off my chest. If I still had any hope of actually getting anyone to pay attention, I’d be toning down things considerably and not basing everything on my personal, subjective feelings.
But apparently this blog at least works as a sort of performance art, in a “come listen to the loony” way. That’s more than I expected, so I consider it highly gratifying.